Clouds in My Coffee
by Boomerang Butterfly
Summary: What does it take to trust again...and dare to fall in love? JetFaye WIP
1. I'll Have One Coffee

Disclaimer: Don't own Bebop. Done.

AN: Okay, so this is my first WIP and so far I'm pretty happy with it. It started out as a oneshot, but since it was so long, I decided to make it a chapter story. Reviews and constructive criticism are definitely appreciated and encouraged, just don't flame me without a good reason. If I misspelled anything or used incorrect grammar, please let me know by email or message, but not in the reviews.

Now presenting...Clouds in My Coffee ch. 1

**Chapter 1: I'll Have One Coffee...**

He hated her and he loved her at the same time.

Loved her because of who she was; vulnerable and innocent but strong and sophisticated. She was beautiful, amazing, not so much the big bad Faye that everyone else had always made her out to be. She was hard to understand but so transparent all at the same time. And he loved her, really loved her.

He hated that she couldn't see that. That maybe she didn't see him as anything other than Jet. To her, in his eyes, he was friend and confidant. Brother and comrade. The rock and pillar of strength and stability in her fragile existence. He was what kept her sane, focused, mentally strong and able to face all she'd been thrust into. He was her lighthouse man, guiding her safely through the storm. That was all fine and dandy, but he really would have loved to have something else added to that illustrious list of titles he bore: lover. He hated that she didn't see him as anything other than what was in front of her and that he really couldn't hate her for not doing so. Because it wasn't her that he hated; it was what he wasn't to her that he hated.

They still went after the occasion bounty every now and then, but didn't need to so often because it was just the two of them and because they usually went after bigger fish, ones that carried enough woolongs on their heads so that he and she could comfortably live off the reward for a month or so. In the time they didn't spend hunting, she wrote. There was so much to her past life, so many memories of time long gone, so much past and history. She would often talk about all the things she had begun to remember while they sat in the kitchen at breakfast, he over the stove and she, usually in a robe, smoking a cigarette and stirring her coffee. It was black, no cream, and two sugars, and she drank it like that every morning, while she talked and he listened, her hair always messy and in her eyes. It was the morning that she was telling him about her sophomore year in high school that he suggested she write a book. And it surprised him that she actually thought about it and decided to do it.

Faye's favorite author was Henry Miller. She read _Tropic of Cancer_ cover to cover, over and over, becoming completely absorbed in the book. She was so enthralled by the story that she'd walk around the room quoting lines from the book, in a semi dramatic voice that always made him laugh…and made his heart contract so suddenly and painfully that he almost wanted it to happen again. And it usually did. Jet researched Miller, just to fancy her, discovered his sordid affair with Anais Nin, and it delighted her so much, that she smiled genuinely, something that hadn't happened since Spike died. And just to make her even happier, they watched "Henry and June" together and she loved it. And it was that movie and that book and that story that ignited her passion for writing and fueled her story, her memoirs, her autobiography about a life left behind.

Turned out that she had quite a way with words; Jet thought she was a brilliant writer. He bought her an antique typewriter, one from the 1930's and every night when they weren't hunting or tired or too caught up in every day life, she came to his bedroom, sat on his bed, and began typing, usually in her pajamas because she stayed up so late at times that she fell asleep in his room. He asked her once why she typed in his room and she smiled, chuckled a little and replied, "Because I like your bed better." But she was serious a few moments later as she blew out a soft puff of azure smoke. "I guess because…you inspire me…" At that moment he decided that had to be both the best and worst thing anyone had ever said to him. He felt as if she was only saying it because he was her friend…and most preeminently in his mind, because when she looked at him, she was really imagining Spike.

He missed Spike. There was really no other way to say other than he missed him. He wished, and for more than one reason, that he wasn't dead. That he couldn't visit his gravestone in Tharsis and place flowers there. He wished that the crazy fool had never left in the first place, or at least, if he did go-and there was no doubt in Jet's mind that he couldn't have stopped him anyway-that he had survived to some extent. He would've paid anything to have his best friend back but he couldn't. It wasn't just that he missed him either, but because Faye had nearly had a break down because of it. If given the chance, he'd bring Spike back just for Faye, even if it meant he'd never have her to himself.

But he couldn't do that, and there was nothing that either of them could do, so she just settled into a menagerie of broken nights and suppressed tears that she tried so hard and so much in vain to hide. She was transparent to him, always had been and there was no way she could veil her pain from him. He was too attentive for that. At first, he let her keep to herself and didn't bother her because he figured she needed time alone. But enough was enough and after three silent and uncomfortable months, her detached, remote stance was really grating on his nerves. Maybe she didn't want to talk about it just yet, but she couldn't hide in her room forever. Jet wasn't prepared for the crash that night; it hurt more to watch her cry inconsolably then it did to know that his partner and best friend was never coming back. So he held her that night until she cried herself to sleep, and did so every night for the next two years until she finally came to grips with all the troubles her poor mind had gone through in the past.

Anyone else would have been flattered to think they'd helped someone through a crisis like she'd gone through. Anyone else would have relished in the thought of being someone's closet, most intimate friend. And at first, Jet was. But time passed and his brotherly feelings of friendship turned into something much more complicated and so intangible that it only had to be described as _love._ He loved her, so completely and wholly it hurt because she didn't love him back. He wasn't Spike, and from where he was standing and from what he had come to understand, Spike was who she'd wanted the whole time.

But, as they say, love is blind.

After a while, Jet got used to Faye writing in his room and tried not thinking about why she was there. He didn't say much, since it seemed that talking threw her off kilter and she usually messed up something when she was thrown off kilter. When that happened, she had to use another piece of paper (since she hated bothering using white out), and the more paper she wasted, the more he had to buy. Of course, he had no beef with actually buying her paper; it was just that he'd rather spend his money on better things…say, beef for instance. Bell peppers with beef were always nice… So, he volunteered to spend the nights in her room or on the couch if she wanted to use his bed to type in. But she had shaken her head vehemently, her eyes widening as if he had just said he was going to blow up what was left of the moon. "No! No, no, no…just stay. Stay," she commanded him as if he were a dog. "I like it better with you here." He didn't know if she meant he was a serene presence in the room, or if she just didn't like being alone. Either way, he stayed. Partly because it was his room to begin with. Partly because he couldn't resist her. And partly, and probably mainly, because he liked to watch her type.

Sometimes, whenever she sat in the middle of his big bed typing, he would imagine they were in another place, another time. He would fantasize about him and her, and in his fantasies, she was his _coqueluche_ and he was hers. They were in 1930's Paris, in an old hotel in Montparnasse and as she typed, he watched. She wore a satin night gown, dusty rose pink, which contrasted sharply against the black fishnet stockings that clung to her thighs with the help of a matching garter, a rip in the side of one of the stockings. And in his fantasies, just like she did on the Bebop, she smoked a cigarette, this one held in her perfectly manicured hand by use of an elegant holder, engraved and painted but a little worn. Her hair was always in her eyes, curly and wavy, dark and just inviting him to run his fingers through. As she typed, she unconsciously wiggled her stocking feet against his, which were propped up against the footboard of the wide but short bed. Everything in Paris was small anyways… He loved how she'd sometimes mumble incoherent parts of sentences out loud as she wrote, but didn't know it. And he'd always chuckle lightly, and then tease her in French, "Mon dieu! Que pourrait dire Sartre?" She'd giggle and swat him none to gently on his bare arm before setting the typewriter on the floor and crawling like a green eyed cat up to where he rested. "He'd say, 'Ça ne faitrien', of course." she responded, and leaning her lips to his ear whispered darkly, "Je voudrais...tu…" to which he pulled out her lipstick stained cigarette and whispered, "Bien sûr.", before kissing her ruby lips as Count Basie played in the background and sepia light filtered in through the dirty windows…

Then his fantasy would abruptly come to an end when she cursed loudly because she'd messed up again, or 'the feel of the paragraph wasn't right'. He had to get up then, get her another sheet of paper, and another ciggie or a bottle of water so she could keep typing. Then, after a few minutes of careful consideration, she would hand him the paper and ask him to read over it, to make sure it was good. He always told her it was, not because he was trying to be nice, but simply because it always was, and she'd smile brightly, even if she was sleepy and about ready to fall over in exhaustion. It was beautiful, those intensely and profoundly artistic days, and painful, too. Beautiful because his days were filled with her muses, her jokes, her smiles and laughter and his nights with the calming sweetness of her heart being put to page. Painful because she wasn't really seeing him when she laughed and joked and talked. She was seeing Spike, a ghost that haunted him to no end, which had a hold on him and her and refused to let go. _Let go!_

But, as they say, love is blind.

Okay, so how was it? Let me know!

Until next time...

Boom Baby


	2. Medium Roast, Regular Please

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I know...Bebop is so not mine...

AN: On to chappie two. Didya like chappie one? If so, this one gets a tad bit more interesting...hmmm

Now presenting...Clouds in My Coffee ch. 2

**Chapter 2: Medium roast, regular please...**

One day, about a year after she began work on her book, Faye was in the living room reading another Henry Miller book, drinking mandarin tea and listening to music on her CD player. Jet walked in to tell her that lunch was ready (chicken spaghetti) and was stopped in his tracks by the sight of her sprawled lazily all over the couch. It wasn't what she was wearing or, better yet, what she wasn't wearing but just the fact of how calm and cool and serene she looked laying there. Her jean-clad legs rested in different positions on the old yellow sofa, her right dangling off the edge and her left propped up on the back. One hand lay across her toned belly, which was bare because the t-shirt she wore was cut off right below where her rib cage ended; her CD player teetered half on her torso and half on the cushions. Jet noticed vaguely that the shirt she was wearing was an old ISSP shirt of his…From her belly to her right hand his eyes traveled, observing with an acute amount of amusement the book she was reading; then his eyes wandered from there to her face which was relaxed and intensely focused at the same time. Her lips moved silently to the words on the page and her head, which leaned back against the armrest, was tilted to the side, revealing the creamy skin of her ivory throat. In a word, she was breathtaking.

She also looked like she owned the place. _She could own the place, if she wanted_, Jet decided. She could stay there forever. She could do just about anything she wanted there…as long as she didn't go.

It was at that moment that Faye decided to turn her attention away from the book and toward Jet. She frowned then smirked and sat up a bit, knocking the CD player completely on the couch. "Whatcha lookin' at?" she asked loudly, the music still pounding in her ears. Jet would've blushed if she hadn't looked so silly yelling over the music. He walked over to the couch, sat down, and pulled off the earphones before saying, as if there was nothing to it, "You." She giggled like a little school girl and thumped his hand. "Why ya wanna stare at me? I'm that pretty?" His smile disappeared for an instant before returning softly. "Nah." She frowned then; she looked almost disappointed, but didn't have much of a chance to because he grinned and said "You're beautiful." She looked stunned for a moment, then sank back into the couch and grinned, a pretty blush spread all over her face. "You mean that?" He nodded, moved her leg so that it sat in his lap and crossed his hands. "Yes, ma'am I do." "Oh…well, nobody's ever said that"- he snorted then -"_like that_. Ya know. Like they really meant it. Like they weren't just saying that to get some from me." He nodded again in complete understanding; she must have been told that same line so many times that it had to seem cliché to her. It was weird, though; he never expected her to understand that he meant it the way he did. "Ah, the perils of being gorgeous…" he murmured and played with her bare feet.

She went on to the next song on her CD player, and since it was up so loud she figured it wouldn't hurt if she didn't put the earphones back on. Sounded like some random pop song to Jet, so he didn't expect to recognize it. She must've noticed the look on his face; she smiled a bit and put one of the earphones to his ear. "It's from, like, 2006, I think…called "My Humps." Jet listened to the words and couldn't help but laugh; the song was ridiculous but the beat and lyrics were so catchy, he didn't care. They sat together on the couch for a while, Faye reading and Jet listening to music, and by the time the same song had spun for the fourth time, Jet was singing along. "Whatcha gone do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?" and Faye cracked up, replying between giggles, "I'ma get get get get you drunk, get you drunk love off my humps!" For a while she couldn't breathe, but after catching her breath she grabbed the CD player from Jet and changed the song. "Hey! I was listening to that!" "I know, I know," she replied, wiping tears from her eyes, "but I don't know if I can handle another laughing episode like that. You"-and she poked Jet in the arm-"crack me up. Didn't know you had it in ya." Jet blushed. _Is she flattering me?_ "Well, it was funny and kinda stupid but…um…" He realized he was stuttering when Faye smiled at him like he was a child; her hair fell in her eyes but she didn't seem to notice, though he did. In the midst of the chaos, he could only think one thing: _she's gorgeous…_ "Poor baby…can't even get his words out right. Did big bad Faye make you stutter?" Jet dropped his gaze and stared at her foot; two years ago, he would've been annoyed, offended even, by her comment. Now, he felt honored to have her tease him. It was somewhat endearing, her way of saying she liked him.

_Ah, but only if she loved me…_

He would've dwelled on that thought for a while, depressing himself again with the idea that she loved **Spike, dead Spike, and not him**. But he really wasn't in the mood for it today. He felt way too good, too relaxed to be depressed today. Besides, she was focusing all her attention on him right now anyways… "Jeeeetttt…come back to Mars…" Faye snapped her fingers to get his attention, but Jet just stared at her pretty little feet…and got a perfect idea to get back at her for taunting him. "Faye, I think your piggies need to learn a little lesson about teasing ole Jet." He smirked at the way her faced paled, her green eyes bulged in horror. "Oh no, Jet. Don't even thi"- but she hadn't anytime to finish her sentence before Jet began tickling her feet, making her squirm and squeal. The book fell unnoticed from the couch, the CD player slipped from her hands and into the couch between her body and the back of it as she kicked trying to get away from his hands, but she could've cared less. All she was worried about right now was evading Jet's deadly assault on her sensitive bare feet. "JET! JEEEETTT, STO-HAHAHAH-P IT!" she half screamed, half laughed, and he laughed, almost maniacally. "Is big bad Faye gonna be a good girl now?" Faye opened her eyes and rushed out between giggles, "No!" Jet sighed as if he really didn't want to have to keep tickling her (though he really was having fun with this) and paused for a second before his sapphire orbs caught sight of a brand new target-her tummy. His grin widened from amused to down right giddy, flashing all of his pearly 32's and poor Faye almost started crying. _Lord, help me, not my belly! _He _knew_ she was ticklish beyond belief in her torso, _knew_ it. Why in the world was he torturing her like this?

She didn't even have time to answer her own question. Jet pounced like a cat on her belly with his fingers, getting right under her ribs and chuckling every time she squealed. Tears sprang from her eyes and she flailed her arms about in a vain attempt to hit him, but her mind wasn't even working at that moment. She had the coordination of a drunken bartender during happy hour. Jet figured he could keep this up for the usual three minutes, as was regulated in their previous games of tickle torture, but from the looks of it, Faye was about to pop. The poor woman would probably pee her pants if he didn't quit now, and he really didn't want her peeing her pants. The couch was yellow enough.

Several minutes later, when Faye had gotten her breath back and a little bit of her sanity, Jet hovered over her, propped up on the sofa on his elbows, the once forgotten CD player now on her chest and playing music again. Her eyes were closed, and a content smile spread across her beautiful features; he didn't think he'd ever seen her that happy. Not even that time when she won at Odds and Evens and he lost his clothes…"I can't remember having as good of a laugh as that," she murmured softly, and opened her eyes to look at him. "Thanks." Jet merely nodded and continued staring at her, spellbound by how lovely she looked at that moment, still a bit flushed and elated. He wanted her to stay like that forever. Apparently, she was thinking the same thing. "I wish we could stay this way forever", she said quietly, and touched his lips. He didn't know why, but he kissed her fingers and her palm, wishing not for the first time that it was her lips instead. "It's so nice like this, you and me…I've never been this content before." She sighed and turned her head away from him toward the table, her fingers still lingering softly on his lips. "Me neither," Jet whispered, determined not to break the mood. "I like to imagine that we'll always be friends," she said, looking wistful, and almost sad as she spoke. "I mean, sure, maybe we will, but one day…one day you're gonna get tired of me and kick me out. I'll have to find my own place…knowing me, I'll wind up all alone again." Then she smiled, but it was so sad, so clouded he couldn't smile back. His heart hurt at the thought of her ever leaving him; even if she only stayed as his friend it would be so much better than her ever leaving. He wanted her with him forever. He wanted her to live with him on the Bebop the rest of her life. He wanted her to…

"Marry me," he said, not realizing that the words he meant only as a thought had come out. She stopped smiling that sad smile; her eyes widened and her jaw dropped considerably. Jet stopped breathing for a few seconds, scared she'd start laughing at him or yelling him to stop acting stupid. But she didn't. "You mean, like, now?" she stuttered, and he nodded, though he really didn't realize he'd done so. "Yes…" Her eyes dropped from his to the table again and she sat up, pushing him back some. She stared quietly at her hands, so quiet for so long that Jet considered taking back what he said and making it out to be a "big joke" so he wouldn't embarrass her or make her feel strangely about him. He was on the verge of saying something when she smiled-not sad this time-locked eyes with him again, and, much to his surprise said,

"Okay."

Whoa, daddy! Didn't see that one coming didya? Anyhoo, more interesting and juicy fanatics in chappie 3. Now, review, review, review...I really need em! (turns on big pouty face)

Until next time...

Boom Baby


	3. No cream, add sugar

Disclaimer: Wish it was mine, but alas, it's not...sigh.

AN: Promised more juicy things, didn't I? Didya really think ole Boom Baby would hold out on ya? (wink) Well, I'm a generous gal, so here's chapter 3...and oh, yeah-if you haven't seen the movie, you won't understand the Parade part...

Now presenting...Clouds in My Coffee ch. 3

**Chapter 3: No cream, add sugar...**

Downtown Alba City was pretty thick on a Friday and usually pretty hot for May, but the Weather Center had decided on a thorough shower earlier that morning, so at 3:30 it was only mildly warm. Jet and Faye walked through the crowds of people toward the justice of the peace at the courthouse, and Faye planned on stopping somewhere to buy a dress. She looked pretty funny walking beside him in jeans, flip flops, and a tank top whilst he donned a crisp black suit, hat, and tie. "The store's just on the next block," she said excitedly, like a kid on the way to the fair. "It's a vintage thrift store so the stuff's pretty cheap…I'll probably need shoes too…" She was counting off the things she'd need with her fingers and then realized she hadn't any make up on. "You don't need it." He smiled reassuringly at her and she arched her eyebrow as if she couldn't possibly believe that, but smiled back. "I guess I'll just go over to the drugstore across the street and pick up some mascara and lip color. I've needed some more anyways…"

They were at the thrift store and Jet still had a few more streets till the courthouse, so he told Faye to meet him there when she was done. "You need any money?" he asked, pulling out his money card and handing it to her. "Oh, no, I think I've got it covered…you still have to pay for the licenses." She gave him his money card back and began walking away before turning around and giving him a grin and a sharp salute. "See ya in a few!" she yelled, and sprinted toward the store. Jet, sighing a little and hoping she didn't overspend her budget, set out on his own toward the courthouse. He was pretty sure Mr. Signon still worked as Alba City justice of the peace, so the filing process could be cut down to a minimum if he placed a few phone calls. On his way to the phone booth at the corner, Jet heard the lively music of a marching band coming down the street. The music was loud, but fun and easy to dance to, from what he could tell. He couldn't quite see the band yet, but he had a feeling that they'd work their way down Doolane Avenue and over to Main Street before shutting it down for a while. That would at least give him two hours, considering how big the city was and how slow the band was moving, and since he knew that Faye had wanted to watch the May Day parade, he decided they could watch from Vic's ice cream parlor a few blocks down from the library…

_Why in the world am I thinking about stuff like that at a time like this?_

Jet realized he didn't really want to think about the possibility that Faye may not actually meet him at the courthouse. "What if?" kept running around in his head, followed by the thought that maybe, just maybe, if Faye actually went through with this, she may be only doing it because she felt sorry for him. Or maybe, somewhere down the line, she'd tell him that it was all a joke and would want an annulment. She might just up and leave one day without word of where she was or why'd she'd left…just like Alisa had done. True, Faye was nothing like Alisa, but she did have a tendency of leaving when things got too tough or intense for her to handle. And she'd probably leave him if she actually got around to marrying him. _There you go being negative again…_ He really tried pushing those thoughts out his head, but they hovered around somewhere in the back of his mind like a dark cloud hovering over him. Personally, Jet had never met a groom-to-be who was quite as depressed as he was starting to get; he'd heard of cold feet, but this was ridiculous…and suddenly he was at the phone booth, calling the courthouse, learning that Mr. Signon was still working there and that the paper work could be speeded up, so he had a brief respite from his dark little drops of doubt.

But then it was off to the courthouse after a stop at John-John's Jeweler to get Faye a decent ring, and the nasty little boogers came back again. It was like someone was whispering in his head, trying to get him to turn around and forget the whole thing altogether. _Besides_, they whispered, _it's not like she's really marrying _you_ anyways…_ It was that thought that put the biggest dint in his previously happy mood; maybe he hadn't been thinking it then, but he'd thought of it before. _She doesn't really see me. It's Spike she's seeing, all Spike. Cause that's who she wants, right?_ As ridiculous as it sounded, he was becoming intensely jealous of his late best friend. He didn't like the idea of holding a grudge for a dead guy, but the cynical, pessimistic part of him really couldn't help it. There was an overwhelming feeling that maybe Faye hadn't let go of Spike just yet; true, he didn't want to forget the guy or anything, but it would be nice if they could move on, if they let go…_let go!_

At the courthouse, a pretty, twenty-something woman sat at the front desk simultaneously typing and talking on the phone. She looked up, and Jet noticed that her name was Amy, when she smiled and whispered, covering the phone, "You must be Mr. Black. Mr. Signon is waiting for you in his office. It's the last one down the hall on the right." "Thanks," Jet murmured. Then, she went back to her conversation and Jet walked down said hall to the offices of Alba City's justice of the peace: Mr. Vance M. Signon. Jet had known Mr. Signon since his earliest days at ISSP, when Signon had been the D.A. on Ganymede. A few years after the young Jet joined the force, Signon retired at the ripe age of forty two, settling down in Alba City, Mars with his wife, Carrie, and taking up the job as justice of the peace. That had been seventeen years ago. As Jet took off his hat and entered the open door of Signon's office he glanced around at the tastefully decorated office and smiled. Mrs. Signon was an amateur interior decorator; she must have put all the nice paintings and furniture in the office. Jet figured Mr. Signon could've cared less.

The man sitting at the desk in the center of the room was a bit more aged since the last time Jet had seen him, but still looked pretty young for fifty nine or sixty. He was tan, like he'd spent most of his life out-of-doors, and still had a head full of hair; though it had some grays in the soft brown. He raised his head, and smiled then, his azure eyes twinkling like they always had; his grin somewhat mischievous and a bit cunning, but good natured like when he was on Ganymede. "Jet Black!" he exclaimed, standing up and surprising Jet with how tall he still was. "Nice to see ya, boy," he said, and walked around the table. Jet extended his hand but Signon pulled him into a friendly hug and gave him a hearty slap on the back. "How ya been?" Jet smiled. Still the same old Signon… "I've been okay, I guess." Signon laughed then and put his arm around Jet. "Well, I guess so, you're getting married! Who's the lucky girl? I hope it ain't that Alisa dame." "Naw, her name's Faye," Jet said shaking his head. _Definitely not Alisa…_ "Alisa…left me a few years back." "Well, good riddance. I didn't take to the chick anyways." All Jet could do was laugh at that. Signon went back to his desk then and handed Jet a thick set of papers and chuckled at the chagrined expression on the younger man's face. "Don't worry, Jet-boy. I filled out most of that stuff. You just gotta do the personal stuff and your intended-whatcha say her name was?" "Faye." "Faye…nice name, nice name. You and Faye can fill out your birthdays, Social Security Cards, Driver's License Numbers, etc. etc. and then we'll get you two kids hitched." Jet sat down at the desk and looked over the papers carefully; Mr. Signon had indeed got the dirty work done, and fast, too. He'd only been over at John-John's for about an hour or so. Amazing. "Alrighty, then," the older man said and grabbing the phone on his desk, dialed a number. "Hey babe? You won't believe it. I got Jet…yeah, that Jet…yeah... he's here in my office, and look babe-he's getting _married_!"

Thirty minutes later, Jet's part of the forms had been filled out, his hat sat on Signon's desk by the telephone, and Mrs. Carrie Signon was sitting beside him in her husband's office, chatting gaily about her new grandbaby and her youngest daughter's upcoming marriage. She'd greeted Jet with a big hug and a smooch on the cheek; Carrie was always the affectionate type. "So four year old Miranda walks up to me and says, 'Maw maw! The new baby spit up on me!' The poor child was livid, I tell you!" and she burst out into a fresh round of laughter. Her husband merely shook his head, an amused smile on his face, and Jet chuckled along, but he really wasn't feeling the tale. It had been almost two hours since he'd last seen Faye, and she still had yet to show up. The negativity was beginning to set in again, even with sweet Mrs. Carrie talking and Signon's hearty laughter. The doubts he'd had earlier were resurfacing with full force; his stomach was literally doing somersaults and his heart felt ill. _She's not going to show up. She's not coming. She left; she backed out, she- she's coming, man! Get a hold of your self! _A silent battle raged on in his head while the Signons' talked, and an agitated Jet stood up to stare out of the window. _Where are you, Faye? Are you serious about this?_ He hoped with everything and then some that she hadn't backed out on him. He stood, silent, staring out the window so intensely that if he had the ability, he could've made her appear just by thinking of her. _Faye…_ "Worried son?" Signon asked quietly. Jet turned around and smiled weakly. "She said she'd meet me here. I was just wondering where she was…" Mrs. Carrie smiled reassuringly at Jet and smoothed her hair back. "Don't worry honey. You did say she had to get a dress and everything, right?" Jet nodded. "Well then, it's just going to take a little while, that's all. Woman can't just go out and get her wedding dress in a few minutes." "She's right," Signon added. "Dame's probably trying to figure out which shoes she wants." Jet chuckled, feeling a bit better as Mrs. Carrie laughed. "Oh Vance, you silly goose!" and then, as if to make everything better, Amy's voice filtered down the hall. "Right this way, miss. I think you're fiancée's been waiting for you." Jet glanced at Signon, who glanced at Carrie, who looked down right thrilled to be meeting Jet's "pretty little intended" for the first time. The footsteps got closer to the office with every tick of the clock and with every passing second, Jet found himself getting even more anxious and more nervous and more…

"Sorry I'm late!" the violet haired woman said breathlessly, holding the train of her gorgeous vintage wedding gown in one hand and a bouquet of white lilies in the other. Mrs. Carrie's eyes popped open and she squealed delightedly. "Oh, you must be Faye!" and she tottered over to her to deliver a light kiss on the cheek. "She's ravishing, Jet, simply ravishing!" Faye blushed a little, but smiled politely and took Carrie's hand as she walked toward Jet. Signon nodded toward her and smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you, Faye. I'm Vance Signon, my wife Carrie"-and he motioned toward his wife-"and you've met my receptionist Amy"-who smiled and waved to Faye-"now all there's left is…Jet? Jet-boy, you haven't said a thing yet!" Thing was, Jet _couldn't_ say anything. Faye had him mesmerized. Her dress was amazing, ivory with beading and lace and pearl strands for straps; it was fitted throughout the bodice and hips, and flared out at the bottom leaving a long lacey train. She wore a beaded headband in her hair, behind her bangs, and a veil that hung to her elbows. She had gone on his suggestion that she really didn't need make up, because she only wore a smidge of mascara and light pink lip color. He would've told her she was stunning, but he couldn't seem to get the words out. All he could do was stare.

Mrs. Carrie's giggle jolted him out his stupor and planted him back into the present. "Poor boy. He's dumbfounded." Jet blushed slightly and smiled at Faye. "I'm sorry…it's just…well…you look…_magnificent._" Faye's smile turned into a full on grin and she bit her bottom lip, looking very much like an innocent schoolgirl. "Thank you," she said quietly and lowered her lashes to stare at her shoes (which perfectly matched the dress) for a few long moments. For a bit, there was an uncomfortable silence, until Signon cleared his throat and said loudly "Well, kids, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Faye stood at Jet's right in front of Signon, who stood in front of his desk holding a book, and Amy and Mrs. Carrie stood on either side of the couple, serving as witnesses. "Ready?" Signon asked. Faye looked at Jet and Jet at Faye and for moment, neither said a word. Then, they nodded in unison and she took his hand, and Signon started the ceremony. "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today…"

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"Did it just get hotter out here?" Faye asked, fanning herself as she walked arm and arm with Jet down the busy Alba City Main Street. Jet sighed a little and nodded in agreement. "I think it has. I guess the shower this morning really didn't do much, huh? Hungry?" Faye shook her head and pushed her veil out of her face with her free hand, which was also carrying her bouquet, and thanked her self for choosing the ballet flats instead of the heels. "Oh, no. The chicken spaghetti we had for lunch still hasn't digested yet. I could use something cold though." "Ice cream at Vic's?" he asked, and fanned her with the brim of his hat. "God, yes!" she exclaimed as her eyes bulged out momentarily, and then she got the dreamiest look on her face as she thought about the treat. "Ice cream sounds heavenly right about now…I can only imagine what it's gonna be like in July…and to think I actually thought about buying the poofy dress…" Jet just laughed, imagining Faye in a huge, princess like gown, sweating and swearing as she walked the sweltering streets of Mars. Then again, she was sweating and swearing right now and the dress wasn't even poofy. But she did have a lot of fabric on that thing…and it was embroidered pretty heavily. He glanced at her again and went over in his head for the millionth time just how gorgeous she was. 'She's really got good taste in clothes…' he thought absently as they neared Vic's.

Jet was on cloud nine; not only was he escorting probably the most beautiful woman on Mars right now (almost everyone turned their head to look her way), he was _married_ to her. The wedding ceremony was short and simple, just an exchange of the customary vows, a few words from Signon about the "sanctity of marriage", and then they exchanged the rings that Jet had picked up from John-John's. His was a simple silver band with three small diamonds spaced evenly around it; Jet didn't really want anything elaborate for himself. It was Faye's ring that he was the most proud of (and had paid the most for; those payments were going to stretch for awhile). It was silver like his, but had a one carat diamond centered right dab in the middle, with smaller diamonds placed on the band and vintage detailing around the edges. The moment he saw it he knew he had to have it, even if it did cost more than most of the bounties they had gotten in the past year. It was discounted, though, because John Marley knew Signon, so the jeweler took off a big chunk of what he would've usually wanted for it. But Jet would've paid a billion woolongs for that ring just to see the reaction that came from Faye-and Amy and Mrs. Carrie as well-when he pulled the ring out. For a few moments the poor girl couldn't speak, and when she finally did, all she could do was murmur 'oh lord' over and over again. When the time came to kiss the bride, she was still swooning from seeing her wedding ring, and, caught up in the moment, kissed him quickly though passionately…on the lips.

Jet probably would've melted if she had kissed him for any longer. He couldn't hide the blush that settled over his face, but nobody seemed to notice. Signon was announcing 'man and wife', Mrs. Carrie was crying (bless her heart), and Amy was gushing over Faye's ring. It actually didn't settle on him that he was now the husband of Mrs. Faye Valentine Black until he picked up the marriage licenses and the certificate-registering to get married only took a few minutes these days-at the front desk and looked at them. Jet and Faye Black. Faye and Jet Black. No matter how he turned it around they now had the same last name. He was legally bound to her, and she to him. Man and wife. Best friends and mates. _I'm married…to Faye…Oh. My. God…_ But he didn't have a minute of elation before the nasty negative side of him started to pipe up. _Just because it's your name on the certificate doesn't mean she really wanted to- **Oh shut up!** _Usually, the rational and seldom used optimistic sides of him rarely ever got along, but this time, they seemed to work in unison to shut down the pessimistic side. A few more moments of successful bantering later and the two had managed to keep Jet in a pretty darn good mood. And he didn't care if it rained, hailed, sleeted, snowed, or showered fire and brimstone from the sky: nothing short of Faye taking off would make him unhappy.

They were at Vic's quicker than he realized, and sat in an outside booth facing the street. Faye ordered chocolate chunk with fudge swirls and he got butter pecan. The waitress smiled at the two and complemented Faye on how pretty she was; all Faye could do was smile and giggle. "I'll bring you a tablecloth so you don't mess that pretty dress up, honey," she said and then left to get their order. Jet shook is head and thumped Faye on the hand. "If I hadn't known any better, I would've thought you weren't used to complements," he said smiling. She rolled her eyes and propped her other hand on her cheek, the silver wedding band shining brilliantly in the afternoon sun. "Well I am, but it's not everyday that a girl gets to strut around town in her wedding gown with Mr. Jet Black." He chuckled and wiped his brow with a napkin from the table; she followed suit and glanced out at the crowd of people lining the street. "Hey Jet? What's today?" Jet took his jacket off and rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. "Friday." Faye's eyes widened and she gasped. "It's the May Day parade!" she squealed, as the waitress brought their ice cream and a table cloth. "That's right, honey, and you two are in the perfect spot for viewing it." Faye turned to look at Jet and her face burst into a wide grin. "You knew! That's why you brought me to Vic's; you knew I wanted to see it! Oh, you are soooooo sweeet!" At that, she jumped up and planted a pink smooch on his cheek and, covering herself amply with the tablecloth, dug right into her ice cream with the enthusiasm of a child. "This. Is. So. Good," she murmured, her mouth full of the cold confection and her face twisted in bliss. "I can't wait to see the band…I wanna go dance. It's the street dance tonight." Jet nodded and took a bite of his ice cream. "They'll be here in a-wait, there they are." He couldn't see the band yet, but could hear them coming up the street, and Faye's eyes got big. She grinned and put her almost finished ice cream down, grabbed Jet's hand, and began dragging him out to the street. "What in the world are we going, Faye?" he yelled over the noise, trying not to bump into the hordes of people in his way. "Dancing!" she yelled back, and he could hear the excitement in her voice. "It's time to boogie!"

Jet had no problems with dancing, just as long as the music was slow and there weren't a lot of people around. This time, it looked like he was a bit out of luck. The music pumping was lively and it seemed like more and more people crowed the street as the seconds passed. By now, Faye had pulled him right in the middle of the street for the street dance. The band was setting up by Snop's Sandwich shop a few stores down from Vic's. A wiry man in blue velvet suit (wasn't he hot?) stood up on the platform and tapped the microphone. "Mic check 1,2,3…we're on? Kay…Alrighty then, Alba City, and welcome to the May Day parade, Mars' third biggest parade, second only to the Halloween parade and the Christmas party!" The crowd, including Faye, screamed like he was a superstar or something, a fact that Jet could only chuckle at. "Who's ready for some jams!" he screamed, and everyone responded excitedly, "WE ARE!" "Oooookaaaay! Now, for our first number on Main Street, we'll take requests. Anybody got a special song they wanna hear? Anything! Just remember to keep it hoppin'!" Instantly, everyone began yelling at once; Faye bit her lip and pushed a little further into the crowd but couldn't get that much closer. "Ugh! I wanna hear a song!" she yelled over the ruckus, "But I can't get to the conductor!" Faye was getting irritated, pushing some people out of the way and dragging Jet behind her. "Wait a minute, Faye!" he yelled, and when she turned around, he picked her up and set her on his shoulders, pulling satin and lace out of his face. "Oomph! What are you…Oh! You're a genius!" Faye waved her arms impatiently, finally getting the conductors attention. "Hey folks, let's get the pretty lady in the gown's request!" Jet set her back on the ground, and everyone parted so the conductor could make his way toward Faye and Jet. "Whatcha name, babe?" Faye leaned forward to speak in the microphone and reminded Jet a lot of a supermodel doing an interview. "Um, Faye!" "Well, Faye, whatcha doing all dressed up? Looks like you just came from the bridal shop!" Faye giggled into the mic and said in a sing song voice, "I just got married!" as she pointed to Jet. All the people cheered at that, though some of the guys did an inconspicuous 'awww'; Jet felt like someone had thrust him into the limelight while he was only in his underwear. He nodded and smiled sheepishly, trying not to look as flustered as he was. "Well, toots, that sure is one lucky man! Now, what did you wanna hear?" Faye looked over at Jet, and for a few seconds, looked like she was somewhere else. "I want to hear 'Yo Pumpkinhead'", she replied, her voice somewhere on the edge of cracking from yelling so much. There was something else there, too, Jet noticed, something kin to…nostalgia. He couldn't remember why, but he had a feeling he knew the song…

Faye turned around after the conductor left and walked back over to Jet, her eyes a little misty and her smile wistful. "Dance with me," she said and held her hands out to him. He took them, and as the music started, he realized why she had sounded the way she had. The song was the one that Alba City usually played at its Halloween parade, and the last time either of them had been to the Halloween parade was when they were out to get Vincent, and Spike had…Suddenly, he was hit the same wave of reminiscent sadness, and an ache that he knew would never really go away throbbed in his chest. "I remember…" he whispered, and though the crowd and the music were pounding, she could hear him. Faye snuggled in close to him for a few moments, although there were people pressing on all sides, dancing and shouting, and the air was hot and thick. "I miss him, Jet…I miss him now." He looked down at her to see tears on the brink of falling down her face and cupped her chin in his hand. _Don't cry._ "Me too…but I don't think he'd want us moping around at a time like this, now do you?" She shook her head, the light returning in her eyes and her smile brightening. "C'mon," he said, "let's dance." They began to sway to the bass and the horns and the crowd singing along all out of key, and Jet still missed Spike but felt better because he knew that Spike would've wanted them to dance anyway. Faye seemed to cheer up as she wiggled around and then broke away from his arms and danced all by herself, spinning around and laughing and looking radiant; and all Jet could do was watch in awe as she danced and her veil and her train spun with her. She was the center of his attention then and everyone else disappeared and there was only her, him, the music and the heat of the fading afternoon.

How was it? Hmmm? Well, tell me dearies! REVIEW! Chapter 4 will be rather interesting, as well...

Until later...

Boom Baby


	4. Wait, make that two sugars

Disclaimer: None of this is mine...okay? GEEZ!

AN: Nothing much, just hope you like this one. OH, WAIT! I'm thinking of putting a lemon in chapter 5 or 6...probably 7 depending on how long it takes to get to where I can put it. Heck, I may wait till later chappies than that. Tell me what you think in your reviews...

Now presenting...Clouds in My Coffee ch. 4

**Chapter 4: Wait, make that two sugars...**

The orangey-pink sky of a Martian summer evening glowed above Jet and Faye as they walked back to the Bebop. The street dance had been fun; someone had even requested "My Humps" and both of them sang along, laughing so hard they cried. Faye held his hand as she walked to the dock, still singing the song and laughing as she went along. At first glance, she looked drunk, and in a way, she probably was. Jet knew he was drunk on something; he hadn't laughed that much in a long, long time. Suddenly, Faye stopped as they neared the ship and stared up at the sky, a soft smile spread on her face. "Isn't the sunset beautiful?" she said almost in a whisper and reached out for Jet's hand. As he took it, he glanced up at the sky and realized just how right she was. Martian sunsets were always beautiful, but tonight this one was even more so because _she_ was standing next to him. "Only to be outshone by you," he said without thinking, so he wasn't prepared for the look on her face when she turned around to look at him. She was crying, but Jet knew that it wasn't from pain or sadness. It shocked him to think that what he said had such an effect on someone who'd been told things like that probably her whole life. _Does what I say mean that much to you, love? _She bit her lip as the tears streamed down her cheek and touched his face. "Thank you so much…" she breathed and wrapped her arms around his neck. And then his arms were around her small waist and his lips were a hairs' length away from hers and then…_they kissed._

This kiss was nothing like the one at the courthouse. That one had been rushed and brief; this kiss was deeper and richer and slower. Her lips were every bit as soft as he'd always imagined them, but the impact of the embrace was much more intense than anything he could've ever dreamed of. In one kiss, in a few long, sweet moments, he poured his heart out for her to have, not even stopping to think that maybe she was imagining he was someone else or that she was only doing it because she pitied him. From where he was standing, it sure didn't seem that way. Once again, the rational and optimistic sides of Jet succeeded in smothering out anything the negative side had to say, and not one depressing thought passed through his mind then. In fact, not much passed through his mind; he was too wrapped in how delicious he felt to think.

It was over so soon, _too soon…_

She didn't open her eyes afterward, just lowered her head and buried her face in the patch of bare skin between his throat and chest exposed from the top three buttons of his shirt being open. Her breathing was shallow and rushed, skin flushed, hands shaking and pulse racing. He, on the other, felt placid and dreamy, standing in the hot Martian air with her in his arms. Somewhere, distant music played, the words lost on his ears but the melody ringing through the haze of his mind. He unconsciously began to move to the slow, sweltering beat and she moved with him, never once opening her eyes, just moving in tune with the song and the strength of emotions surging through her at the moment. She was swaying with him silently, slowly, steadily and his arms were locked around her possessively, as if he were afraid she would disappear. The world couldn't have been more perfect for Jet…and as things usually go, it only took one stone to break the glass, to ruin the mood. Without thinking about it, before he had time to stop himself, before his mind could prevent his heart from crying out, he said it; three little words that could either make or break everything. One minute she was intoxicated in the feeling that his kiss gave her and was trying to calm her erratic heart palpitations and the next she had gone stock still, a cold shiver running down her spine and the world around her completely tilted off kilter.

"I love you…"

And the very instant he said those words he wished he could take them back. He'd said them too soon; too quickly…the mood had been just right; maybe if he'd waited a few more minutes. _What's a few more minutes?_ Then everything wouldn't be so awkward. The sudden tension was so thick he felt he would choke on it. Faye broke free from his embrace slowly and daringly shifted her eyes to meet his. There was a storm raging behind those eyes, something almost kin to fear leaking out from the corners and she hurriedly wiped the tears from them before they had a chance to race down her cheeks. Her mouth, softly agape and set in a semi pout, moved slowly to speak but she could barely get the words out. "Do you mean it?" It was more of a request than a question or simple query; her voice was quiet and uncertain, and her face held an unbelieving gaze as she stared at him. Jet swallowed, his body rigidly allowing his neck to move up and down, hesitantly at first and then more freely as his mind finally settled enough to respond. "Yes," was all he murmured, and he held her eyes, searching them to see her reaction. Faye was quiet still; the silence ate away at Jet's psyche, as he wanted to know what she was thinking, but she stayed mum. Instead, she flashed him a plastic smile and turned abruptly toward the ship, marching resolutely down the pier and yelling over her shoulder, "I guess I'll go take a shower now. See ya inside!" Jet, confused by her solemn behavior and sudden façade of cheeriness, stood standing still in the exact spot she left him for a few more long minutes, staring out at nothing but thinking of everything. _What does she think of me now?_

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Jet stared at the ceiling of his room dejectedly and sighed for the millionth time in twenty minutes. He could hear the water from the bathroom running at full speed still, signaling that Faye was currently _still_ showering. It couldn't take that long to bathe, could it? _Of course not. She just doesn't want to talk to you or see you. She's finally realized that you're not him. She can't pretend any longer._ As terrible as he felt at the moment, he really didn't even feel like trying to block Pessimistic Jet from nagging at his frayed nerves. Yet, the more he listened, the more Optimistic Jet, as small as his voice was now, kept pushing that he was wrong. That maybe she reacted the way she had out of shock. _Maybe she does lo_-but he couldn't go through with the thought because it seemed so preposterous and silly. _As if she could ever love me…_Logical Jet didn't even have a say in any of this. He turned on his side and stared at the red digital numerals of his clock until his eyes were blurry and then reached out to turn on the radio. Music probably wouldn't do to help his mood right now, but it was a lot better than the aching silence. He didn't like the song the moment he turned it on but was too lazy to turn it off so he lay and half listened, half mused. _You give me just a taste so I want more…_ and Jet snorted at the absurdity of how pathetic he felt. But it was true, unfortunately. Part of him wanted her to come rushing out the bathroom and into the room, crying and wailing and declaring her long suppressed feelings for him; another part of him wanted to hide away from her, knowing that if he ever saw her again, he'd never be able to see her the same way. It didn't matter that she was his wife; the kiss had done all the work of transforming Faye in his mind and her reaction to his confession made his head hurt. It was like she was teasing him…but was scared of him. And Jet didn't think he'd ever been that confused before. _Cause I've never known a girl like you before…_

Suddenly the water turned off and Jet tensed as if he was expecting something. He settled back down into his bed soon after, realizing that she probably wasn't going to ever talk to him again. He sighed again, pinched the bridge of his nose to stave an oncoming headache, and glanced down absently at his bare feet. The foot of his bed was only a few inches away and he pointed his toes forward to try and touch it. Then, something semi shiny caught his eye in the dull lamplight; Faye's typewriter sat in a chair near the closet with a piece of paper sticking out of it and a bottle of water beside it. He wondered if she'd come back to his room, if only for the typewriter, then turn and leave in a hasty rush to get away from him. Either that or she'd simply ignore what had happened and act as though nothing had occurred. Whatever she did, Jet knew things would never be the same between them again. He averted his gaze from the typewriter and focused on his feet again, trying to get his mind off Faye for at least a minute or two, but to no avail. Everything about this room seemed to scream Faye. She'd put her stamp invisibly on everything there during her late night writing sessions, and no matter where he looked or focused on, it all came back to her. _She says I need to take better care of my feet…_ He turned his attention to his cybernetic arm. _Faye's been bugging me about this thing for ages…_ and even when he turned back on his back and stared at the ceiling again she invaded his thoughts. _Faye told me she'd love to have a chandelier coming from the ceiling, as ridiculous as it would look in the ship…_and he sighed again for the millionth and third time, laying his hand on his eyes and vaguely listening to the music on the radio.

A few more torturous minutes later and the door opened slightly, a small sliver of dusky light peeking in through the crack. Then, it closed softly and he could hear light footsteps approaching the bed before they stopped…and were still. He knew it was her without opening his eyes, but why she'd stopped was beyond him and his curiosity got the best of him. He peeked through one eye to find her staring down at him like he was a piece of meat at the grocery store…like she was searching him for something but couldn't figure it out yet. In the dimness of the light, he really couldn't tell what her face looked like or what her eyes were saying but he knew that the silence and her scrutiny of him were unsettling. Creepy, really. "You're not asleep," she said suddenly, her voice dry and void of any underlining emotion other than a faint feeling of expectancy, as if she hadn't expected him to be asleep anyway. "Hmm…" was all the acknowledgement he gave her and turned his head to the side, away from her. Faye shrugged as if nothing unusual had ever happened between them and sat beside him cross legged in the middle of the bed. Her hands rested lightly beside her on the bed, the left one between her pajama-clad leg and his and in the dim light the largest diamond of her wedding band sparkled brilliantly. She was quiet for a few moments, staring at the back of his head and trying to figure out just how she was going to get the conversation started. She had to talk to him, _had to_, because if anything, Jet deserved an explanation of her reaction. Maybe it wasn't fair how she had reacted, but there certainly was a reason and she was going to give it to whether he wanted to hear or not.

Faye poked Jet on his back to get his attention and he turned over slightly. "Hey, Jet?" "What?" he asked tiredly. "Is it okay if I ask you something?" she asked quietly, fiddling around with a loose thread on her tank top. Jet grunted in acknowledgement and kept his eyes covered while unsuccessfully trying to ignore the way his heart thudded painfully with her nearby. "Well," she began slowly, "I…I just wanted to know…What do you think went on between Spike and me?"

"What! Why in the world did you ask me that!"

Faye shrugged and blushed a little. "I don't know, really…I just wanna know." Jet didn't say anything for a while, shocked that she'd even asked such a question. He kept his eyes covered before answering her so she couldn't see the look in his eyes when he replied. "Honestly…I think you guys had a fling going on," he said matter-of-factly and ignored her soft gasp. "I think you love him and he…took advantage of that for his own purposes. Maybe he was trying to forget Julia, but when he realized it wouldn't work out, he tried stopping. He couldn't just drop you like that though so he just kept on letting it happen. And then he found her-well, you found her-and he lost her again…and he left that night because he didn't think he had anything else to live for." He paused for a moment then continued when she didn't say anything. "Even though he had me and you-especially you because you loved him-he left. You loved him, and you still do. Am I right?" Then he uncovered his face to see what she would say. Jet expected her to nod and say yes because he was usually right about stuff like that; or she would wail and cry about how much she missed him and how he'd be the only man she'd ever love. But he didn't expect the effect of his assumption; her head was hung low, her body slouched and trembling slightly, and small choking sounds came from her throat. She seemed to be sobbing from what he could tell, but upon closer inspection, he realized that she was…_laughing? What in the world?_

"Faye? Faye! What's so funny?"

"You!" she choked out and bit her lip to stop from laughing. "Do you realize how silly you sound?" "Silly?" Jet asked confused. Wasn't what he said right? Hadn't Faye and Spike had something? "Yes, silly." She watched his face change from worried to embarrassed to sulking in less than a few moments. "Oh well, excuse me for giving my opinion on the matter." He turned his head away from her again and placed his hand back over his eyes, and waved his hand toward her. "Go ahead," he said irritably, "go back to doing whatever you were doing before you came in here. While you're at it, you can shut the door behind you." Normally, Faye would've been angry and sad that he was acting that way, but she just shook it off. Rolling her eyes she shook her head and crossed her arms. "Nope. I'm not going anywhere. I wanted to talk to you and that's what I'm gonna do. Plus," she added, "we've got things to sort out." Her voice was more somber than before and she was quiet again soon after for a little while trying to sort her thoughts out.

"So, you actually thought that Spike and me slept together? All this time, you thought we had an affair going on behind your back?" When he didn't respond, she took that as a yes and sighed. "I don't see how you could've figured that. I mean, we never even…well, okay so we did flirt a little"-he snorted-"a lot, but that was just friendly flirting, ya know?" "No, I don't," he replied tartly. "Unlike you beautiful people, I don't have the luxury of just flirting for the fun of it." Faye titled her head to the side and touched his arm softly. He wanted to be really angry at her, to wrench away from her grasp, but he couldn't help liking her touch. "No, I guess not," she said slowly. "You're a much more serious person. And that's why I wanted to ask you…about the kiss earlier." Jet turned over and looked into her eyes and though he couldn't really see what was going on in them, he could tell from her voice that the kiss had affected her as drastically as it had him. Perhaps she had reacted from shock after all…but first, he had to know what she felt towards Spike. That thought was and had been the most nagging thought going on in his head for the past two and half years, and tonight, he wanted to get it resolved, even if it came to her still loving Spike…and never loving him.

"We…can talk about that…and other things that preceded that, but I want to know about you and Spike first." Faye figured he'd say that; she knew Jet was curious, even a tad bit jealous of the relationship she had with Spike when he was still alive but apparently it had grown deeper. That didn't make one lick of sense to her, though; it wasn't like Spike was there anymore, was it? Didn't he realize he was the only one she ever wanted to be around?

Sitting forward a bit, she propped her hand on her cheek and her elbow on her bent knee, thinking of how to explain what she felt toward Spike. "Well, okay, I'll tell you whatever, but it may not make sense…and it's gonna take a while."

Hmmmm...wonder what Faye's got to say...okay, chappie five may be up in a few days, depending on my schedule and my muse (she's kinda finicky). REVIEW kay? I need feedback on the lemon thing.

Until we meet again...

Boom Baby


	5. I like my coffee extra sweet

Discaimer: I. Don't. Own. Cowboy. Bebop. Got it? Gooood…

AN: This chappie took some thought. I've been trying to explain the Faye/Spike relationship in a non romantic tone…but with a sense of friendship and love in it. Cause Faye did love Spike, just not the way she thought she had. Oh, well, hopefully it'll make sense… oh, and Faye's doing most of the talking.

Now presenting…Clouds in My Coffee chapter 5

Chapter 5: I like my coffee extra sweet…

"When I woke up out of cryo-sleep those years ago, I couldn't remember anything. Nothing. Not about myself, my family, where I came from. The doctor told me my name was Faye Valentine and that was all the information he had on me. So, I sat in the hospital bed feeling alone and scared and not sure of what I was gonna do.

Till I met this guy. He was handsome, charming, sweet. He took me under his wing and showed me the ropes, helped me get used to this new world I was thrown into. For a few lovely weeks, I spent almost all my time with him, and he never once acted without chivalry and kindness. I felt comfortable around him, like I could trust him with my everything, and in my naivety, I did. I didn't expect to be betrayed. I didn't know that men could take advantage of you like that. He never once put his hands on me or touched me in an inappropriate way, but when he did what he did, it was just as good as violating me, raping me."

Faye paused for a moment, the memory filtering through her mind, stirring up feelings of betrayal and a sense of self-disgust for being so stupid that she thought she had gotten rid of. A_ll that time he was scheming on me_…

"Witney," Jet said suddenly, spitting the name out as if he couldn't stand the man himself. Faye nodded and sighed. "Yes, Witney. Witney Hagas Matsumoto. The bane of my existence. He…conned me, hurt me, destroyed my innocence and naivety, and in the process, dumped all his debts on me, sweet little Faye who couldn't do anything for herself. I found out what he did and it changed me. Probably not for the better either. Sure, I was more cautious now, but…I wasn't the same person I'd been before the accident. Of course, back then, I didn't know who I was, so I created a brand new persona. Faye Valentine. Gambler, con artist, cheater, poker player, casino hopping, cigarette smoking, boozing, hard edge woman. I wasn't about to take any bull from anybody else again. And so I shed my former self in exchange for that woman and I thought that if I used what I had to get what I wanted, if I cheated people the way I'd been cheated, I could actually get by in this new world. Trouble is, it never really worked."

"For awhile I enjoyed my new self. I was self sufficient, independent, brassy, sexy…everything that the newly awakened Faye hadn't been. I didn't trust people; I conned them, schemed them, scammed them, robbed and flirted and did just about anything I could to get money. Money was all that was important then. I didn't need anybody, just a few hundred woolongs, my Glock, and my Redtail, and I was okay. At least I thought I was. By three years time, pick pocketing and racketeering really wasn't paying off that well. Then I met Gordon on one of my trips to the casino and after a scrawl with some drunks at the bar he gave me proposition: get a chip for him and all my debts would be paid off. Sounded good to me, yet all the time he was talking I was thinking up ways to con him off. Shows you how far I'd gone, huh?"

Jet nodded, sitting up in the bed and intently listening to her story.

"So anyway," she continued, "I had a job, the info, the profile-even though it was a bit sketchy to say the least. I set up by the poker table, dealing and waiting on Mr. Poker Chip, when I meet this guy…" she laughed slightly at the memory and let out an uneasy breath. "He was tall, lanky, with wild and poofy dark green hair, recklessly handsome, with eyes that captured you and a smile that would melt even the heart of even the most callous woman. He sat there at the poker table for a little while, grinning and annoying me and giving me the jitters all at the same time. And it didn't help that he knew I was cheating the people at the table. For a minute I forgot about getting that chip…until I starred at him long enough to think he was the guy on the profile.

Jet snorted and almost laughed. "Really? What kind of profile did you have anyways? A crayon sketch!" Faye rolled her eyes. "No, it was a video sketch…but it was really fuzzy and from what I had he looked like him, okay?" Jet just waved his hand and said, "Continue."

"So, I took off after him through the casino and demanded the chip from him when I finally caught up to him…and he doesn't know what I'm talking about. I get all hot, cause I think hotshot here's trying to josh me or something and he just grins…grins like there's nothing going on and it annoys the seven seas out of me. So I try to force it and he runs and I take off and…well, the rest is history." Faye glanced over at Jet to find him staring at her with a wistful look on his face as if he was reliving that night in his head. That was the night she met he and Spike, and the night all their lives changed forever. "You ever wonder if it was fate that caused that to happen?" he asked suddenly. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it again, not entirely sure how to answer him.

"Maybe…I dunno…could've been fate or destiny or something like that. Could've been anything…"

"Anything other than a coincidence," he finished quietly and shifted his gaze away from her to his feet. There was silence for a few minutes and then…

"Did you love him?"

Faye cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows raised in thought, and bit her bottom lip. "Yeah…" She watched for his reaction, and, seeing the look on his face, shook her head. "Before you start jumping to conclusions, let me explain." Jet couldn't help the involuntary wave of jealousy that passed over him…or the chill the coursed through his heart. "Please do," he murmured quietly, and Faye began.

"I loved Spike. I still love him and will always love him…just not in the way you think. It wasn't passionate and romantic, nothing like what he felt for Julia. When I met him, I found him intriguing and interesting. And annoying, and irritating, and crazy. But I couldn't help but like him. He had this…carefree, throw-caution-to-the-wind, don't-give-two-cents sort of attitude about him that just attracted me. I guess all girls like the bad boys. And Spike…he was a bad boy, but a good one too. When he rescued me from Vicious that time, I sort of became…infatuatied, I guess with him. Back then, I wouldn't have admitted that I even liked him, but I think he knew. I think he knew all along that I had a crush on him. And you know what Jet? After awhile, I pretty much convinced myself that it love, that I'd fallen in love with him."

She fell silent again, and played with her fingers nervously. When she finally spoke again, her voice was cracking, strained at the edges.

"I hated Julia," she breathed suddenly. "I hated her, but I wanted to meet her. Just once. That way, I could've told Spike how wrong she was for him, how she really didn't deserve him, that I did. I wanted him to see me the way he saw her…I wanted him to want me the way I wanted him. But…when I actually _met_ Julia, it was another story, entirely. Of course, at first, I didn't know that she was her. I just knew that some guys were after this pretty lady and I decided to help out. We talked, drove around a bit. I found myself liking her in just a few hours. And then she told me to tell Spike to meet her. I didn't know what she was talking about at first…until I flew back to the ship and thought about it. Julia. It had to be only Julia. I was supposed to hate her, right? I was supposed to love Spike, right? I had finally met her and you know what? I couldn't even hate her. _I liked her._ And I wanted her to be with him because I realized she was the only one he'd ever want."

"When he came back, he had this look in his eyes…he said she was dead and my heart sank. I knew right then that he was going to do something stupid. To try and take down a whole syndicate by your self is just…dumb, and I knew that with her gone, he wouldn't give two cents about what happened to him. Even though I wasn't in love with him, even though somehow I'd realized that, I know that I did love him. He was family to me, as messed up as it was, but family and when he left…I tried talking him out of, I tried telling him not to go, but it was useless."

She drew in a sharp breathe and shook a little. Jet started and upon inspection, realized that this time, she was really crying.

"He left," she continued as the first of her tears streaked down her cheeks, "and he took part of me with him. I wanted him to come back, but I knew he never would. And when you brought his body back…" She choked up again and Jet sat up and took her into his arms. It didn't matter what had happened earlier; if there was anything he hated it was to see Faye crying and he would do whatever to make it stop…though he knew that what she probably needed right now couldn't be done. He couldn't make Spike come back. "When you brought him back, that made everything so real. When we stood there at the funeral, it was so real. I wanted it all to be a bad dream, but it wasn't." She shook her head slowly, rubbing her eyes furiously as if she could make the tears stop but she couldn't. "And to add on to that, I got my memories back. At first, it was nothing really. Just a numb feeling, because I knew that that life was gone. But after Spike died, it suddenly struck me just how much I'd lost. I had a family, I had friends, I had a life that I could never get back, and the memory of that and the memories of them and all the emotions and affections and love I'd had came rushing back to me at once. It crushed me, Jet, it really hit me hard. I was all alone, I was all by myself, and everyone that I'd ever loved was _dead_…"

She sobbed in his shoulder, shaking violently, her wails echoing through the room. It had been a while since she'd broken down like this and it scared Jet some. He was afraid she'd slip back into the dark hole that she'd worked so hard to get out of. Jet wasn't exactly religious but he prayed that she would never have to go through anything like that ever again. He didn't say anything, scared he would make it worse by commenting so he stayed silent and held her as she cried.

It was a few minutes later before she was quiet again. She lay still in his arms, sniffing every now and then and just staring out at the walls. He watched her face and wondered if she was alright now; either she was okay or had withdrawn inside herself again. He touched her hair, her cheek, and her lips gently and gripped her tighter to him. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, and was relived when she nodded. Faye turned her head up at him and smiled weakly. "I'm alright," she replied. "I…just relived all that when I told you about it. It sort of got to me." Jet nodded and sighed. "I hope so. I hope you're okay cause I don't think I can handle you breaking down again." "I wasn't," she assured him, "I just needed a good cry. I've learned it's better not to hold stuff like that in. Last time that happened, it almost did me in. If you hadn't come to me when you did…I know I would've killed myself…" Jet nuzzled his chin in her hair closed his eyes. "I'm glad you didn't."

Faye then sat back and looked at Jet curiously for a few moments, studying his eyes and face. "Jet, I still have some things to explain." He nodded and loosened his hold on her, his hands resting lightly on her forearms. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted earlier. It wasn't so much from the kiss as it was what you said. I want you to tell me something before I go on though. Did you mean what you said?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, did you really…did you mean it when…are you truthfully…oh, God…Jet, do you really love me? Is it the way I meant it or is it different?"

Jet opened his mouth but couldn't really figure out how to explain what he meant. "Faye, I"- "And don't beat around the bush with it, either," she said sternly. "I wanna know the truth." He stared into her eyes, the brilliant green glowing with a fire behind them, her gaze concentrated deeply on him. He was quiet for a few more moments, just staring at her and she began fidgeting, biting her lip and wiggling her foot. "Jet…"

"Yes, I meant it."

Faye looked at her lap then and shook her head. "You have to do better than that. I need to know for sure. Please, Jet. _Please…_" Jet frowned, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What do you want me to do, just come right out and say it?" he growled. "Yes!" she exclaimed, and glared at him so hard she could've burned a hole in his skull. "Well then!"

Jet took hold of her shoulders firmly and held her gaze.

"I love you! I. love. you. Do you need me to spell it out? Do you need me to tell you how much you mean to me? Cause I will! I will! You know what, Faye? You mean the world to me. Everything. And I love you. A lot. Very much. Probably too much. I really couldn't tell you how much you mean to me! And I wouldn't think twice about giving my life for yours; I'd do anything you wanted me to! I'd rob a bank if you wanted me too! Know why?"

"Why?" she asked in a whisper.

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, THAT'S WHY!"

By the time he was finished, Faye was looking at him with a strange, sad look on her face. Jet frowned. "What?" she shook her head and put her hand on his cybernetic one. "Is that why you asked me to marry you, then? Not just because you felt sorry for me, but because you love me?" He nodded. "Yeah. Why?" "I guess it was unfair of me to marry you like that when you feel so strongly about me…and I don't exactly feel the same way…" Jet felt his heart sink a little lower than it already had. _Why should it even bother me? Didn't I already know that?_ "I mean, I do love you," she continued, " but not the way you love me…if you're really telling the truth, that is."

"I wouldn't lie about something like that," he murmured grouchily.

"I didn't think so," she responded quietly.

He turned his head away from hers and stared at the walls as a million and one thoughts swarmed around in his head and his heart beat painfully. Faye sighed and touched his cheek softly, but he swatted her hand away. "Don't", he said. "You'll make it worse."

"Oh, shut up!" she exclaimed angrily. He snapped his head around to stare at her, confused and a bit scared. "What?" he asked. "I said I wasn't in love with you. I never once said that I couldn't fall in love with you! Geez, you act like it's the end of the world or something." Instead of firing back, Jet took her face in his hands and pulled her close to him. He pressed his forehead to hers, dizzy from the rollercoaster of emotions he'd just been through in the last twenty minutes. "Could you?" he asked. "Could you fall for me?" Faye, open mouthed and a little dazed herself, smiled softly and nodded a little. "Maybe…if you tried, I think I could." Jet smiled then and pulled her face a little closer, his lips just barely touching hers. Her eyes sank shut, and just before he pulled her into another deep, soft kiss he whispered, "Then I'll make you fall for me, Faye. I promise…"

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AWWWWW! That was soooo sweet! Can't wait to see what's in store for next chapter? Well, it may be a little while longer than this, but don't worry, not more than a week. I have tests and Graduation stuff right now, but next week is spring break, so I'll have time off to write. Gimme some suggestions about the next chappie, and I'll be sure to take into consideration you ideas. If I use them, I'll put your name in the chapter.


	6. How About a Cappuccino?

Disclaimer: C'mon, you already know the drill…okay, I don't own CBBB, kay? Geez…

AN: Okay, I know I haven't updated in a few, but I've been a bit busy. Sorry for the delay. Plus I was trying to work out this chapter in my head in the best way possible. Still gotta get the romance going…chapter five was only a smidgin of what's to come. Lots of Faye/Jet fluffiness…yeesssss…and I wanna make it seem believable, so bear with me.

This chapter is pretty much just a starter of how the Blacks (awww…Faye's a Black now!) relationship evolves. Being married and being in love are two entirely different things. And Faye has yet to fall for Jet…but I'm thinking of some pretty nifty was that he's gonna go about this. Jet, my friends, is formulating a plan…

This chapter's dedicated to the **three** people that reviewed.

**Negotiatrix**, **The Cat Puppy**, and **Kate Spiegel**. Thanks you guys, and even though they're the only ones, I'm still so into this fic…cause maybe it'll catch on later.

Okay, now presenting Chapter 6 of CIMC…

**How About a Cappuccino?**

The first few days after weren't as different as one would've expected. Things went on like they had before; Jet woke up first and made coffee, and Faye woke up a little later, still a bit sluggish and drowsy, and sipped while he made breakfast. But there was something there that hadn't been before-understanding. He now knew her feelings for Spike and she knew that he loved her; with that knowledge, Jet felt more at ease and a lot more carefree. For once, he could think of his late friend fondly, without the edge of malice or jealousy that had been there before. His mind was now set primarily on one thing-how to get Faye to fall for him.

A couple of days after said incident, Jet sat on the couch combing through page after Internet page of potential bounties, trying to scout one that would be the biggest payoff. Big bucks weren't really his thing, never had been, even as his two younger comrades had scoured the solar system after a bounty that packed enough woolongs to choke a horse. All he needed were a few bucks and some peace, and he was fine. But this was a tad bit different. He'd been saving for a few months, but the money still wasn't enough and Jet knew that if he got just the right catch, then his plans-renovating the Bebop through and through-could easily be realize. Almost as if the computer was reading his mind, a bounty popped up that caught his eye. "Marcos Graham Sibley, master hacker, thief, wanted in Tharsis for robbing a convenience store while armed, yada yada yada…oh…OH…killed two clerks and five customers…shot and wounded one policeman and fatally wounded the other…worth 1.2 million woolongs! Faye!" Faye, still in her pajamas and currently working on her eggs benedict brought her plate with her as she walked into the living room. "What?" she asked after swallowing. "Bounty up, big one too!" He looked giddy, and Faye could hardly hold back a laugh at how excited he was. "That's great, Jet, but um…what do we need…12,000 woo-Holy moly!" She read the figure over again set the plate down on the coffee table. "Well…excuse me! 1.2 mil, eh?" "Yes, ma'am," Jet said grinning, "And I do believe I have a way of catching Mr. Sibley."

A few hours later and Faye sat in Jet's room, sitting quietly on the bed and staring at the typewriter. They wouldn't be going after Marcos until later that evening, and with Jet still setting up a few plans, she had time to write. Only thing was, though, she couldn't. Faye sat staring at the typewriter for an hour before she finally gave up. Usually, it barely took a minute to spark something in her head, but today her muse seemed to be giving her a really hard time. Initially, she blamed it on all the events that had happened in the past few days-from her impromptu marriage to Jet to his sudden declaration-but she knew that really had nothing to do with it. If anything, the crazy life she'd been leading so far seemed to have been just the kind of fodder for her imagination. So what was the deal? These were memoirs, for goodness sakes, memories that she had in her mind and heart and should've been so easy to put down on paper…only problem was that she couldn't. Then again, writing ideas was one thing and the delivery was another. Faye could only chalk it up to one thing-writer's block.

Growling in frustration, Faye didn't even notice that Jet was standing in the doorway until he spoke up. "Ya know, just looking at that thing ain't gonna make any words get on the paper." He tilted his head to the side just in time to watch one of his pillows fly across the room and out the door. "Oi, shut up! I know that! I've just been thinking, that's all." "That's nice and everything," Jet continued, an amused little smirk on his face, "but we've got things to do. I'd figured I'd find you ready by now." Faye frowned and stared at him for a few seconds before catching on to what he was talking about. "Oh, crap…I'm not ready yet! And this thing won't go off right if I don't get dressed just right!" She rolled over in a hurry, just barely missing knocking the typewriter off with her feet, and tried to get her footing so she could bound out the door but wound up miscalculating the space between the bed and the floor. With the grace of an elephant, she fell clumsily to the floor.

Or almost fell. Without her even realizing it, Jet had darted across the room and stopped her fall by catching her. Now, breathless and flushed, she looked up into his eyes from her position in his arms, he kneeling on the floor and she cradled like a child. "Klutz," he whispered, and she touched his cheek, a thankful smile on her face. "What would I do without you, huh?" and slowly traced her finger over his lips. Those lips…they were just calling for her to kiss them. Faye had promised her self that she couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't jump into any kind of romantic relationship with Jet; he was a nice guy-dependable, honest, caring(though he tried not to show it), hardworking, and really sweet when he put his mind to it…but he was her friend, and only her friend…right? That night, when he confessed and she explained, their wedding night, he'd kissed her again after everything and she went to bed with the feeling of his lips on hers. And for the next few days since, she couldn't get how lovely they felt on hers out her mind. Subconsciously, Faye realized that she'd been looking forward to kissing him again, and, before her head could tell her hands otherwise, she pulled his head down and kissed him softly on the lips.

Jet sank easily into the kiss, not really worried about their current position or even aware of how it had happened. The point was, she was kissing him. _She was kissing him!_ It was a quick kiss, but very sweet and Faye found herself wishing that she didn't have to let go of him. But Jet's knees were quivering and if he didn't get up then, he'd probably fall, so, with a mental sigh and a smile, she got up and walked on wobbly legs toward the door. "I'ma go get ready, so…I'll meet you in the hangar, kay?" Jet didn't even turn to face her; he just waved his hand and murmured a reply in response. He didn't want her to see the dazed look on his face. When Faye closed the door, a rather pleased Jet sat on his bed and worked out a few last minute details for the catch on a piece of scratch typing paper. When that was done, he sat still for a few seconds and listened to the faint roar of the shower as Faye bathed. Tapping his pen on the side of his hand he pulled out another sheet of paper and began making a new list.

He titled it, _How to make Faye fall in love with me…_

oo0oo

At a nightclub on the outskirts of Tharsis, Marcos Graham Sibley sat at the bar and sipped his martini. Idly staring at the buxom barmaid currently taking the order of the man next to him, he began planning his next move. Marcos knew there was a bounty on his head; anybody with Internet access and common sense knew what the ISSP were after him for. He'd never meant for the show down at the 7/11 to go down the way it did, but the clerk just kept talking back and his little workmate kept threatening to pull a gun on him and then…well, something snapped. Then the cops showed up and he couldn't just let them hall him off to jail, now could he? No, of course not. Marcos wasn't jail material. Sure, he was a pretty good marksman and a pro at jujitsu, but he wasn't jail material. He looked too good for that.

Among his other talents, he was also an expert charmer and an un-apologizing womanizer…which was probably why Janelle, his first wife, had left him in the first place. Not that he cared; Janelle was as refreshing as a cup of motor oil, as sweet as a spoonful of Robitussin, as soft as a cactus. He'd been 18 at the time, and nothing but pure infatuation could explain why he'd married her-she was 10 years his senior then, and broke-but he couldn't help being attracted to her. She was blond, and busty and rather slim, sort of like a life sized Barbie doll, but he had a feeling that even Barbie was a tad bit more agreeable, and she was plastic. So, with the annulment (since they'd only been married for three months) he set out for a life a crime, because law school was boring and had been at it ever since. Now, at 34 years old, with about 21 million in the bank and counting and a very hot bartender named Lori currently listening to his life story, Marcos felt like he was on top of the world. He was in safe territory; this part of Tharsis was protected by the local yakuza gang-the Omemushi Gang-and ISSP knew better than to step in Omemushi territory. As an added bonus, he was high school buddies with Hirokuto Omemushi, the oyabun's son, so he had immunity when it came to the yakuza. He knew that any worthy bounty hunter wouldn't dare come after him in here. Even though this was the rough parts of Tharsis, the Tom Tom club was a high end establishment, and a nice way to hide from cowboys.

Marcos, however, was in for a big surprise.

Unbeknownst to him, Lori, the very pretty redhead bartender that was flirting with him, had no plans on going home with him. In fact, she found him annoying, irritating, and very egotistical. Sure, the guy was gorgeous-long, mid-waist length black hair, piercing violet eyes, and the sort of bad boy my-daddy-owns-the-world attitude that some girls seemed to fall for-but he was still a jerk. And besides, she had a boyfriend anyway. But Marcos didn't know that, and she had no plans on telling him. She did, however, have plans on helping to turn in his arrogant butt in to the ISSP. Lori, you see, had some old friends of her own that were going to bring this bad boy in.

She glanced at the clock, and brought out another bottle of Vermouth for his martini refill. Lori didn't know if this was illegal or not, and honestly, she really didn't care, but she inconspicuously dropped a tablet into the drink, which fizzed for about a second and dissolved, leaving no trace that it had even been in the alcohol. 8:36…four more minutes and Jet and his partner would be walking through that door. By then, the drug would have taken effect, and Marcos, though highly alert and still his annoying self, would be nearly incapable of practicing his "bad super fly jujitsu moves" on either of the cowboys. Neither of his limbs would work with him; all Marcos would be capable of within the next fifteen minutes would be to slump down on the floor, paralyzed for the next few hours. And those few hours would be just enough time to get him to ISSP headquarters in Alba City, two hours away.

"So anyways, baby,"-and Lori cringed at the sound of his voice, although it was deliciously smooth and sophisticated-"I was thinking. You, me, my penthouse suite on the other side of town. If you act right, I might take you on a shopping spree in the morning." Lori smiled and tried to control the gritting of her teeth. Three more minutes. "Oh, sorry honey," she cooed and propped her elbow up on the counter. "I've got classes in the morning. Plus, I don't think Chris would want me going home with you, no matter how cute you are." She reached out and touched the tip of his perfect nose as affectionately as she could muster. He gave a playful whimper and pouted, but Lori just laughed and turned around, staring at the clock as if she make the minutes turn faster. Two minutes. "C'mon, Jet…being punctual don't hurt," she muttered under her breath and moved down the bar to serve another customer. She could feel Marcos' eyes all over her, though, and it made her irritable. After mixing the gentleman's drink she glanced at the clock again, and was relived to find that it was currently 8:40. No sooner than she'd looked back to the door than did Jet Black and a very pretty violet haired woman, whom Lori assumed was his partner, come walking through the door.

Jet sat at the bar as Faye wandered over to a table and ordered from there. The idea was not to let on that he and she knew each other, so, that when the time came for Faye to confront Marcos as was planned, the scheme would go off without a hitch. As for Jet, all he really had to do was be back up. If Lori's drug worked the way she said it would over the comm. then within a few minutes' time, they would have a bound Marcos on his way to ISSP headquarters, and by the next morning, he and Faye would be 1.2 million woolongs richer. "Gimme a scotch on the rocks," he said, signaling to Lori that Operation Catch Marcos had officially gone into effect. From the corner of his eye, he saw said bounty sitting two stools away from him, sipping his martini elegantly, his eyes wandering from girl to girl and occasionally stopping on Lori. When the redhead beauty had gotten Jet his drink, she silently drummed her two middle fingers on the left of Jet's napkin, and Faye, across the room, caught the signal to 'come over'. Part two was now in effect.

Sauntering up to the bar and sitting at the stool right beside Marcos, Faye crossed her legs slowly, more than aware that her skirt had slid up five inches to stop mid thigh-and that Marcos' attention was now diverted to her legs. A sly, slinky smile graced his lips and he sipped again from the drink in his hand, his eyes wandering up her body unashamedly. Faye pretended not to notice and did her best to suppress the shiver of apprehension that ran up her spine from his gaze. _Guys like that give me the creeps_. With a silent sigh and tap of Jet's finger in signal, she turned her head ever so slightly in Marcos' way. "Hmmm, I love this song," she cooed, her voice oozing with sensuality. "One of my favorites," Marcos drawled back, the sly smile a full on grin, his eyes sparkling seductively. If he couldn't get the pretty redhead behind the bar, maybe he could have Ms. Green Eyes in the little black dress. Faye turned around then and smiled. "Oh, really?" "Yes," he murmured. "I've always had a soft spot for Ella." Faye giggled. "So have I," she agreed. "Then again, it sort of helps when your name's Ella, too." "Really," Marcos asked, his eyes widening. 'Good job, Sibley. Play on that card and you've got this Ella in the bank.' "Mmm hmm," she replied, taking a sip of the drink that Lori had just brought her and lowered her eyelashes. Stroking his fingers with one of her own, she turned completely his way and propped her elbow up on the counter. "My mother named me Ella because she loved this song so much. I guess everyone needs someone to watch over them, hmmm?" Marcos, feeling a bit more low key than usual, chuckled and took her hand completely in his. "You wanna know my favorite line in this song?" Faye tossed her hair and bit her ruby bottom lip in mock thought. "Oh, let me guess, um…" "Marcos," he finished for her. "Call me Marcos." Faye laughed, turning the charm up to ten and batting her eyes. "Well, Marcos," and she punctuated his name with a breathy sort of tone, "I bet you a drink that I can guess which line is yours." "What makes you think that?" she reached out and touched his chin and smiled. "I know my people." Marcos let his eyes wander up her legs again, and drank in the sight, then turned his attention back to her. "Alright. I'd like to see you try." Staring at him for a second, Faye put a finger to her chin and pretended to think. "Is it…'I'd like to add his initial to my monogram'?" she asked sultrily. Marcos feigned surprise; in actuality, he didn't even know this particular Ella Fitzgerald song, but he decided to go with it anyway. "Good job, Ella. Seems you know your people."

From his station a stool away from Faye, Jet could hear every syllable of the conversation between Faye and Marcos. Faye was really pouring on the charm, luring Marcos in with every hitch of her skirt. Though he knew this was merely Faye at play, on the job, giving her best performance (the girl really could be an actress), he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy and possessiveness as he listened. Before he had a chance to glare sulkily at the pair, Lori passed him another drink and smiled in his direction. "Jet Black. Nice to see you too again." Jet, startled a little, blushed briefly and chuckled. "Sorry bout that Lori. I guess my mind was a little preoccupied." Lori waved it away and pulled a stool from under the bar and sat across from him. "Don't think nothing of it. But I wouldn't worry about your partner there. She seems to be able to handle herself just fine." "She can," Jet agreed and nodded, taking a sip from his new scotch. "But that guys as slimy as they come and, well, I don't know. I'm just a little worried." "just like you, Jet," Lori said fondly. "Always worried about somebody. But enough of that right now. How have you been?" "Alright I guess," he said. "After I quit ISSP I took up bounty hunting." Lori raised an eyebrow. "From detective to cowboy, huh? Not too far from each other." Jet snorted and gave a short laugh. "You'd be surprised. Anyway, I teamed up with this guy…we were partners for three years till we met Faye," and he nodded inconspicuously toward Faye (currently Ella). "Faye sort of shook up our rather dull existence, ya know, like she was the most exciting to happen to us since sliced bread." Lori sniggled. "Wow, Jet…that's _boring_." "I know, I know," he said after laughing with her. "But I liked it that way. When she showed up, I didn't want her on the team anymore than he did. I don't know why I let her stay. I guess cause, well, a few weeks after showing up, she wound up showing her worth I guess." He thought back to that night at the church…

_Faye called him, frantic and half crazed, but managing to hold it together. Her dress in tatters, her hair messed up and blood splattered on her flawless skin. When he showed up, she held a broken Spike in her arms, her fingers pressed against his pulse, her eyes wild. "He's gonna die, Jet. God, he's gonna die!" "No, he's not!" he growled, trying not to show his own desperation and worry, and carefully lifted the battered young man into his ship to take him to a doctor he knew. For few moments, as police sirens rang out and the rain began to pour, he glanced back to find Faye standing there in shock, the smoke from the bombed cathedral pouring out of the shattered stained glass window behind her. She looked so haggard, and for the first time, Jet saw her with her defenses down. She looked every bit as scared as she was, soaking in the rain and smoke but not seeming to care. Her eyes were fixed on Spike's unmoving body. "Faye, we gotta go!" Jet ground out, a little harsher than he wanted, but it seemed to snap her back into action. The fierce look of determination that he'd come to recognize whenever she set her mind on something flashed in her eyes, and she ran on unsteady legs to his ship, sinking in beside unconscious Spike and focusing her eyes grimly on windshield. And though Jet hadn't ever admitted it to her or Spike, he found himself admiring her bravery._

"So, anyways, we kinda just got used to her…and then this little girl shows up and we already had a dog." "Awww, a little family!" Lori said smiling. He rolled his eyes, but smiled too. "Right…and we were always broke and hungry and arguing and I couldn't wait until I got rid of those three…or four if you count the dog…but then, my partner, Spike…he had some things in his past and…he got himself killed cause of it." Jet stared at his glass and sighed. "The girl, Ed, she'd already taken off and took the dog with her. It was just Faye and me after Spike died. She…took it pretty hard. I guess I did too, I didn't wanna show it around her. After a while, we sort of became friends and now she's my partner and…As crazy as those days were, I don't bet neither of us would've taken them back for the world." He smiled sadly as he remembered those few crazy months on the Bebop; they would always be some good memories, but haunted with a mix of sadness and nostalgia. "Oh, Jet, I'm sorry about that," Lori said quietly. "But you two seem to be close. I mean, I could tell just by how you guys walked in together. Are you sure you're just partners?" Jet's eyes widened and he chuckled nervously. "Oh, well… um…how's your brother doing?" he asked, trying to change the subject. "Fine," Lori said quirking her eyebrow and giving Jet a wry little grin. "But don't think you're gonna get out of answering my question." Jet sighed and shook his head. Lori always had a way of getting the truth out of people.

Jet turned his head just in time to hear Faye giggle about something Marcos said. Then, with a slight twist of her wrist to the right she signaled part three of their plan. She had to lure Marcos into the trap. Leading him into a secluded, dark part of the Tom Tom club, they began dancing slowly (and a bit too close for Jet's liking) to the song playing. He watched her underneath the hat he wore, and from across the room, he could tell that Marcos's agility was starting to slack a little. Lori finished another order and fixed herself a Coke. "It's been a little while…that stuff should take into effect in a little while." Jet nodded. If this went the way he wanted, he could have Marcos tied and bound and ready for drop off in less than three hours. "While we're waiting," Lori said, "you could always tell me about that lovely ring on your left hand." Jet looked at the mentioned appendage and sat still. _Geez, Jet. How'd you forget about the ring?_ It wasn't that he didn't want anybody to know that he was married to Faye, but in this situation, he didn't want to cause any kinds of complications. "Well, about that…"

Faye, dancing with Marcos in the corner, mentally counted off the minutes until the con was rendered completely immobile. If the stuff started working fifteen minutes after first sip, and Lori had given him the drink four minutes before they arrived…she did some math in her head and realized that she had been flirting with Marcos for only about three minutes. _Ugh…come on already! Hurry up!_ She had eight minutes…till complete paralysis. But that didn't mean she couldn't snag him soon. For the next few minutes, she danced and flirted and giggled and laughed before deciding to procede to part four. She had to get him alone. "You know, I'm getting tired of this place." She flashed him a suggestive grin and played with a stray strand of his ebony hair. "I was just thinking the same thing," he murmured and nuzzled his nose into the side of Faye's neck. Not wanting to send any contrary signals, she stifled the need to stiffen at his embrace and glanced at Jet, who had the weirdest look on his face (_was he jealous?)_ to give him the signal. "How bout my place?" Marcos cooed and Faye forced a smile. "Sure, thing sweety. Let me get my purse." Walking with as much badaboom as she could, she retrieved her purse from the bar and took out a thin card to hand to Lori before turning around and heading toward the door where Marcos was waiting.

As soon as the two were gone, Jet turned to Lori who flipped open the card and stared at the small screen on top. "Okay, Jet," she said, pointing to a dot on the screen and showing him how it moved along the grid. "This is Faye, the red dot, and from what it looks like, she and Marcos are headed toward the parking lot a block from here." Jet nodded and took the small tracking device from Lori and handed her a twenty. "Thanks, Lori," he said and saluted her before sweeping out the door to track his wife and the bounty back to the suite he was taking her to.

Yay! Another chapter! So, next chapter will show how Jet and Faye catch Marcos, how the bounty almost gets out of control, and how our pair get just a little closer. Plus, they've got some remodeling to do! Seems like this is gonna be one interesting summer…

So you know the drill. Read. Review. Rinse. Repeat…

Later,

BB


	7. Soy Latte

Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop…not mine. Jet…not mine. Faye…not mine. Original Characters…mine. Plot…mine. Writing this fic for the fun of it…priceless.

AN: Wow, chapter 7 already! Oh, well, let's see what happens in this chapter, and how it will affect our two.

I wanna say thanks to my **six** reviewers: **Negotiatrix, The Cat Puppy, Kate Spiegel, **and now** sherada, syverasazyn, and soubi202. **You guys are the greatest! Maybe we'll have our own little CIMC club going, eh?

Now on to the fic…Chapter 7 of CIMC

**Soy Latte**

Radio on, window down and the cool breeze of an early summer night in Tharsis and yet Faye still couldn't completely ignore Marcos. From the time they pulled out of the parking lot he bragged; whether it was about his new car ("vintage Jag, baby, best in its class and soooo expensive!") or his ridiculous bank account ("got so much money, honey, I keep a little change in the dash"), he just wouldn't shut up. But Faye, a pro when it came to dealing with egotistical, arrogant, bragging men like Marcos, managed to keep her cool. She rarely said anything during the ride, just an occasional 'hmmm' or 'wow' in response. In actuality, her thoughts seemed to wander elsewhere.

He looked so…irritable standing over by the bar, waiting for her. She would glance every so often his way as Marcos spun her around to the music and smile, meaning it to be only for him, but she wasn't sure that he got the message. Faye could understand that Jet was a little tweaked by the way she came on to Marcos, but didn't he understand it was just a part of the gig? As well as he knew her, he had to know that Faye didn't go that type of guy; she preferred someone more down to earth, humble, kind. Marcos wasn't any one of those things. And Jet didn't seem to be thinking that when he looked at her that last time. He seemed so hurt, so annoyed and jealous and aggravated that Faye began to feel guilty. _Maybe I flirted just a little too much…_She glanced at her left hand and stared at the sparkling diamond that adorned her wedding ring.

Wedding ring.

Wedding. Ring.

_Wedding ring._

Was it so easy to forget that she was now married? As strange as it sounded, she had a feeling that Jet expected at least some sort of loyalty and trust from the relationship…even if they weren't acting like husband and wife. In fact, things seemed to be going just the same way as they had been. And-

Wait, wedding ring?

She still had on her wedding ring?

Why hadn't she noticed that? Hadn't Marcos noticed that? _Nope, _she thought annoyed;_ he probably was too busy gawking at my legs…_ which brought her back to Marcos. Shouldn't he be getting drowsy by now? Focusing back in on the one sided conversation he was having with her, Faye couldn't sense any kind of paralysis creeping up on him. And hadn't it been some minutes since they left the club? He should at least be losing coordination by now. But he seemed only to be getting, dare she think it, more wound up. Strange looks passed over his face, and as she stared from the corner of her eyes, she could've sworn his eyes were going red. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or the pill going into effect before the paralysis set in. or…or maybe, he was immune to it. Did he know what was going on? Faye took in a shaky breath and tried calming herself. Of course he didn't; she'd played the game far too perfectly for him to suspect anything. Then again, there was the ring on her finger. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! _Maybe, if she moved stealthily and slyly enough, she could slip it off with him noticing. But she also found that she didn't want to take it off.

_I don't wanna take it off…that's weird. Does this ring mean so much to me already?_

And in the midst of contemplating all of this, Faye realized that Marcos had become eerily silent. She chalked it up to the pill finally working…but looking at the frantic tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel and how his eyes bulged out of their sockets…Wait a minute, he _was_ talking, just not audibly, and apparently not to her. He was moving his lips but wasn't making a sound. Faye watched him, confused and getting scared because of how weird he was acting. That pill wasn't supposed to do all of that, now was it? The car, she also noticed, was moving at a ridiculously rapid speed. Marcos was not going the speed limit. And the very moment she realized that, the Jaguar came to an abrupt and painful stop. Faye had been wearing a seat belt, so she jerked forward and stopped also, but at the cost of having the seat belt dig into her chest and neck. "Owww...," she winced softly and turned to Marcos to see what the problem was.

He was heaving, breathing violently, and moving toward her slowly-

Before he ripped her seat belt off and before she could even say his name, grabbed her wrists and slammed her harshly against the window of his car. Her right wrist, adorned with a locket that held a tiny tracking device, collided with the glass and cracked the window, crushing the tiny heart and the tracker. Faye, however, was currently trying to figure out how to get out of her present situation. Marcos was breathing down her neck like a hungry lion, his eyes indeed red and his hands gripping her wrists so hard she feared he would break the small bones inside. "Marcos," she panted out, "Baby, what's wrong?" Faye put all the syrup she could in her words, hoping it would calm him down, and for a minute it looked like it had. But he only jerked her forward again, and with a growl, slammed her back into the window. "You never answered my questions, Ella," he growled out. She was near panic but managed to keep her cool and put on a weak smile. "I'm so sorry," she cooed, "I guess I just didn't hear. Look, if you let me go," and she glanced from him to her wrists, "we can take this back to your place. Besides, I really can't wait to see your hot penthouse." Marcos stayed still for a few more seconds, then loosened his grip on her wrists (they were going to be bruised so bad the next day) and slid back, docilely into his seat. He put the car back into drive silently, but still watched her and pulled off the side of the road. The way he watched her sent chills up her spine and she twisted around in the seat stiffly whilst rubbing her wrists, almost afraid that he would snap again if she did anything flashy.

_God, I hope that pill starts working soon…_

o0o

Back at the Tom Tom club, the customers began picking up and Lori found herself in a tight spot. Two orders from the bar and several from the surrounding tables and Ashley and Lynn still hadn't come in yet. It was almost nine, and at the Tom Tom club, it was an unwritten rule to be at least a few minutes early. Feeling the beginnings of a headache, Lori remembered she had two aspirin in her pocket and fished around for them, pulling out several different pills and two paper clips. Two pills for menstrual pain, one for heartburn, and another…wait a minute. "Didn't I already put the Serenity in Marcos's drink?" she whispered to herself. If that was the case, then why did she have another Serenity in her hand? She could've sworn she'd only gotten one from Jerry Alan. The other one he gave her was a Bumble Bee, an energy pill she took sometimes to keep her awake at work. But Lori didn't have a Bumble Bee in her hand; she held two aspirin, two Midol, one Prilosec and…

_Oh, God no!_

Lori scurried to the break room and dialed Jet's number on the vid phone. Two rings and he picked up; the comm. had buzzed unexpectedly and he wondered why someone other than Faye would be calling. Faye wasn't due to call for at least ten minutes now. "Jet!" Lori's frantic voice rang out over the speaker, her face coming up on the screen. "Lori, what's wrong?" "It's Faye! She's in trouble!" As soon as those words rang from her mouth Jet went cold. "What are you talking about, in trouble?" "The pill I gave Marcos," Lori breathed out rapidly, "was the wrong one. I gave him a Bumble Bee, not a Serenity!" Jet shook his head. "I don't get it, what are you saying? What's the Bumble Bee gonna do?" Lori swallowed, her face pale. "Let's just say, if we don't get to her in the next few minutes, she may get hurt. Real bad." Jet didn't need to hear anymore. "Alright, I'm on it! I got Faye's trail on my-what! What's wrong with this thing!" but no one answered. Lori had already hung up. The screen from the tracker had gone blank. Nothing showed except a bare grid and the red dot that indicated Faye had disappeared. Jet could only think of two reasons why that had happened; either she'd turned it off or it was broken. He knew she wouldn't disconnect without telling him or before the bounty had been caught. So, that only left one thing. The tracking device had been broken. Or, as he thought with a cold sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, someone had broken it.

Lori hung up with Jet and dialed another number, this time, her boyfriend's. Christian picked up the first time and Lori had never been so relived. "Honey, what's up," he asked casually, figuring she just called to talk. "Chris, baby, I need Jerry Alan's number right now!" Chris frowned. "What for?" Lori had talked to Jerry Alan, his brother in law, earlier that day and left for work early to pick something up. He hadn't asked what, trusting it was just something she needed for her migraines, but now he was worried. She sounded frantic over the phone. "I'll tell you that later, but I really need his number!" "Okay, but whatever is going on, I'm not gonna let you handle it by yourself. You'd better tell me what's up." Lori sighed and quickly explained the situation. "So if I don't get the potion right"- "This girl's gonna be in some tight trouble. Alright, look. I'll go by Jerry's cause it'll be quicker from my apartment, and meet you at the warehouse down the street from the bar. You tell your friend what we're doing and have him tell us where she and that Marcos guy is and we'll all drive there together, kay?" Lori breathed a sigh of relief. Chris always had a way of working everything out. "Okay, but I'm gonna go ahead and call Jet from here. See ya."

As Lori hung up the phone, she couldn't shake the panicky feeling creeping around her brain. She dialed Jet again and prayed everything would be okay.

_Jet said you can take care of yourself, Faye. I hope he's right._

o0o

"Ella, honey, baby," Marcos grumbled as he drug Faye roughly up six flights of stairs to his penthouse, "You gotta hurry up. I don't wanna wait. I don't _like _waiting." Faye, panting and trying to wrench out of his grasp, frowned but tried not to let it come through in her voice. "I'm sorry if I'm-oof, my shoe!-if I'm slowing you down but…I got heels on and I can't really walk that fast." "Then take 'em off!" he yelled. He paused just long enough for her to kick her shoes off and began dragging her back up the stairs. _He could at least go easy on the wrist!_ Glancing at her free wrist, she noticed that her locket was crushed. If that was the case…

_Please, please, don't let it be broken too!_

But she already had a feeling that it was. And she also got the feeling the pill Marcos had inadvertently taken wasn't having the desired effect. In fact, it was making him even more aggressive. Cold fear gripped Faye as she stumbled up the stairs, but she tried her best to hold it together. _Don't focus on fear, Faye. Jet will find you, tracker or not. And you can kick this Marcos's butt anyways._ But the more she thought about it the more scared she got. What if Jet couldn't find her? What if she couldn't get away? Didn't he mention something about jujitsu? As adept as she was with taking care of herself, even she knew her limits, and she knew she was no match for jujitsu, if in fact he was the pro he'd bragged about.

She had an unsettling feeling he was. Marcos was a braggart, but not a lying braggart.

Once inside the apartment, Marcos hastily threw her to the floor and walked off to the kitchen. "Don't move, baby," he said, his red rimmed eyes glowing dangerously. "You don't wanna know what'll happen if you upset Marcos." Faye just nodded dumbly, and sat there still for a second after he disappeared into the kitchen. Then her fighting spirit kicked in and she bolted quietly toward the living room. Combing the room quickly with her eyes, she found a phone and ran down the hall to the nearest room she could find, locked the door and began dialing Jet. Busy signal. Faye growled and scowled. Who could he be talking to? Maybe he'd called Lori to tell her the tracker had gone dead. Faye shook her head and tried thinking of who else to call…and where she was. If she could get in touch with either Jet or Lori, she might be able to tell them where Marcos had taken her. Faye vaguely remembered some of the streets he turned on and glanced around to where she was to try and find a window. Maybe she could crawl out of it. Faye realized she was in the bathroom and also discovered that the window would be just big enough for her to squeeze through. Good, good. She opened it and stared at the street below her. Reality hit her. Even if she was able to fit, she'd fall six stories to her death because no one else lived in this building, from what she could tell, and there were no balconies. But she did find a street sign. Calhoun Street. If Jet could find an S-type Jaguar on Calhoun Street, he had her.

She went back to where the phone was and dialed Jet again. Still busy. _Who else can I call?_ Faye didn't know the number to the Tom Tom club…but she did know how to use 411. "Information?" she said quietly when the operator answered, "I need the number to the Tom Tom club and I need it now!"

Two minutes later, the phone to the Tom Tom club rang shrilly. Over the noise of the incoming customers, Ashley heard the phone and answered it on the fifth ring. "Hello, this is the Tom Tom club!" "Hello? I need Lori!" Ashley bit her lip and wrinkled her brow. "Um, she's not here. She said she had an emergency and left. Would you like to leave a message?" "No, no! I need to get in touch with her!" the frantic voice on the other end half whispered. "Oh, okay…"Ashley tilted her head and began thinking. "Um, you could try her cell phone. I'll give you the number, but if I get in trouble"- "If you don't give me the number," Faye breathed fearfully, "you're gonna be in trouble." Ashley's eyes widened and she hurriedly passed Lori's cell phone number on to Faye.

_Please, God, let her pick up the phone!_

Three rings later and "Hello?" "Lori!" Faye almost cried, grateful that she was able to reach the bartender. "Faye! Where are you? I've been trying to reach Jet, but I think the phone's off the hook!" "I'm on Calhoun Street. I can't tell you how to get here or what number"-"Don't worry about that," Lori said confidently, "I'll find you." Just then, Marcos's voice rang out through the penthouse, causing Faye to shiver in fear. "ELLLAAAA" he called. "Where are you?" Faye covered the phone with her hand and answered him weakly. "In the bathroom, honey. I had to pee, so…" "Come out, Ella! Now!" Faye bit her lip and whispered back to Lori. "I gotta go, Lori. Please, hurry! This guy's gone nuts and I don't know if I can hold him for too long." Lori was about to respond when the line suddenly went dead.

Faye walked out of the bathroom and smoothed her dress down, swallowing her fear and trying to get her fighting spirit back. Once she caught sight of Marcos, however, it was nearly impossible. He was shirtless, hands balled into fists at his sides, his eyes wild and furious. He wore a sardonic smile and was heaving as he stood in the living room, waiting for her to come out the bathroom. "How bout me and you get to know each other a little better?" he said, taking a few steps toward Faye.

She stood still, wide eyed and frightened, and gulped.

_Please, please, please Jet…please find me!_

Whoa! Intense! And I totally left a cliffie. But I had to split chapters 7 and 8 up. Next chapter will be what happens in Marcos's apartment. Can Faye get out of the situation unscathed? Or will Jet, Lori, and Chris be too late?

Hmmm…why am I asking you? I'm the one with the answers! I'll update soon.

Love,

BB


	8. Another Soy Latte

**Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop and its characters belong solely to…me! Ha ha ha ha ha! No really, they belong to Shinichiro Wantanabe. Bummer…**

**AN: The long awaited and much anticipated chapter 8 is now up! Well, I don't know about long awaited, but anticipated, ne? Anyhow, this is the chapter that determines Faye's fate…as far as Marcos goes anyways. And I'm gonna tell ya, I took a risk with this chapter. You'll see why.**

**On to the story! Chapter 8 of CINC…**

**Another Soy Latte**

Jet Black was a man of action, but also a man of caution. He planned, plotted, and diagramed everything and had multiple backup plans just in case something went wrong. He liked to cover all his bases; over preparation was better than under preparation, he'd often say. Of course, there were those instances were one couldn't quite narrow down every little detail, when some plans had to be made in haste. In those occasions, he used his brain and his brawn in a usually productive combination and winged it, coming out of said incidents with little or no damage done.

This was _not_ one of those incidents.

On this night, in May of 2074, he had planned and plotted and diagramed-but not good enough. The plans had been made in haste, but right now, his brain couldn't get around to thinking up any ways he could use his brawn to get out of the situation. He was just too scared. Right now, as he flew frantically over the streets of Tharsis, Jet's mind was doing just about nothing, except panicking. Faye could be hurt right now; she could be beaten or killed or anything else horrible and it would be his fault. If he'd stopped long enough to think this through, he would've came up with a back up plan or two. He would've given Faye something else to fall back on in case things got sticky. And he would've never let her take him home. That had been her idea, but he hadn't put up any fuss to stop her. "Man like that isn't gonna want to go to the bathroom, Jet," she had said laughing. And he hadn't tried to counter argue either.

Her laughter.

Right now, Jet was scared out of his mind that he might never hear her laughter again. The Hammerhead was silent; usually when he was nervous he talked to himself to stay calm, but it was beyond that now. It had been almost ten minutes since Lori had called about the pill mishap and he still had no sign or inkling of where Faye and Marcos were. In the silence he could here a faint buzz, but didn't pay much attention to what it was. He turned the Hammerhead around about midway past the nursing home and turned around. There weren't any homes, apartments, or penthouses past this street; he had passed them already. If Marcos was still headed to that loft of his, he would have to circle some of the residential neighborhoods again. Jet sighed. That would take more time, time he didn't know he had and time he didn't want to waste, only to come up on a dead end again.

He didn't know where she was.

He didn't know if she was okay or not.

And it was _killing_ him.

Growling again in frustration, Jet wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow and narrowed his eyes in concentration. Where would Marcos's loft be? If the guy was a loaded as he said, it would be somewhere on the East side, but then again, he was a wanted criminal and maybe had moved to somewhere deep in the slums, on the Southside. And why hadn't Lori called back? Maybe she knew something; Lori lived here and Tharsis and knew these streets, so maybe she would have some sort of idea where to find them.

Why hadn't Lori called?

Why?

In the back of his agitated mind, he heard that buzz again, but more predominantly now. Already irritated, he didn't need something else-an annoying noise-to further unravel his nerves, not that they could be more unraveled, anyhow. He glanced around the cockpit of his ship, searching for something that could be making that awful noise.

Emergency button? No.

Was the lock to the hatch open? No, he'd feel the pressure by now.

_Why hasn't Lori called? Why hasn't Lori called? Why hasn't Lori-_

_Wait a minute… I know that noise!_

Jet wanted to slap himself when he realized the answer to two of his questions.

The comm. was off the hook.

No wonder she couldn't call; she couldn't even get through. Hastily, he snatched up the comm. and put it back in its appropriate location. And no sooner had he done so, it buzzed. "Hello?...Thank God! Yeah, I'm almost over there now…on my way…Bye."

_I'm coming, Faye…I'm coming…_

o0o

Faye ached and hurt in more places than she'd ever hurt at one time. In the past five minutes of dodging Marcos's assaults, she'd been slammed, thrown, hit, slapped, and wrestled to the floor more times than she could count. Not that she had the time to count. Marcos hadn't been lying about being a pro at jujitsu. He was pulling all kinds of moves and stunts that she hadn't ever seen before, stuff that she'd never even seen Spike pull before, and that was saying something.

Wait, Spike did jet kwon do. Not jujitsu. Right…

Just barely missing getting wanked side the head by a swift kick from Marcos, Faye used her remaining strength to make a run from the door. Or at least try it. She'd been trying for the door several times but never made it. She seemed to wind up slammed against a wall, or knocked into a random piece of furniture. But Faye wasn't going to stop trying. Although she knew without a doubt that she could never beat him or even land a blow for that matter (though that didn't stop her from snagging some loose strands of hair of pummeling on his bare arms when she could), she could dodge him. Marcos was slim, but Faye was smaller, and she had the agility of a cat. Being bare foot helped too, and so she slid down out of grasp of potentially deadly blows from either his fists or feet, though he managed to corner her a few times. Faye, however, seemed to wiggle out of his grasp just to be attacked again.

Faye was getting tired.

Five minutes of hard edged dodging was taking its toll on her stamina. Of all the times to leave her Glock in her purse, which she remembered to her chagrin, was still in the Jag. Her lungs burned from over exertion; sweat ran down her face and back; and her head was swimming from contact with Marcos's wall, or table, or floor. Now, standing uncertainly by the edge of the couch, Faye's eyes remained locked on Marcos, but her mind was on the door. It was unlocked; if she could get enough speed up to make it there and open it, she could very well manage to slam the door in his face. Maybe that would startle him long enough so she could grab for her shoe and then stab him in some convenient location before darting down the flights of stairs and out the apartment building. And if she played her cards right, she could hot wire that Jag of his…

It was now or never.

On the count of three, she ran, with all she had to the door, reaching out to grasp the door knob.

But she never made it. She was jerked around harshly to come face to face with Marcos's insane face, that same mad sneer plastered all over it, sending chills of fright throughout her body.

"I thought I told you I don't take no for an answer," he slurred, his hands twisting her arms painfully. The hold he had on her was stronger than the others, and she couldn't, try as she might, to wrench away from him. "Leave me alone!" she cried frantically and struggled against him. But he just held tight, increasing the pressure on her arms and delivering a swift kick to her kneecap, sending her tumbling to the floor. Faye cried out in pain, but she didn't hit the floor; he swooped her up and carried her over to the couch, where he deposited her roughly and hovered just inches above her. "Time to play, Ella," he whispered wickedly in her ear as his hot breath assaulted her skin. Cold fear sank dead in her stomach and she knew she was stuck. There was no way out.

He had her caught.

o0o

At an apartment building on Lincoln street that had an S-type Jaguar parked outside, Jet flew into the street just as Lori pulled up in a jeep, and a blond haired man that Jet guessed was her boyfriend, Chris, pulled up in a pick-up truck. Not wanting to waste any time, the three raced to the building and began bounding up the stairway to the loft on the sixth floor. "Lori," Chris panted, "why…don't we…just take…the…elevator?" Lori turned the corner going up the stairs to the second floor. "Cause…it's…broken…"she replied, and gave a quick glance to Jet. His face was set, his eyes narrowed, and he didn't even look like he was loosing his breath, even though Lori knew he was older than both she and Chris. It was the adrenaline, the pure worry and dread that kept him focused. And he was focused on only one thing: Faye.

Rounding another corner, and then another, and then another, they were at the fifth floor when Lori saw Faye's shoes. But she didn't even pause and no one spoke; there was no time for that. They kept going, right up another flight of stairs until they finally reached the sixth floor and the only loft there.

The only thing running through Jet's mind at that time was getting to Faye.

_Please be okay, baby…please…_

o0o

Pinned to the couch, her dress now in tatters from Marcos's hands tearing savagely at it to get it off, Faye had never been more afraid in all her life. When she had been held hostage by Vicious's men, she didn't back down. Even when Spike had fallen from the cathedral, she had held it together. When she was tied up in Gren's apartment, she hadn't freaked out. When she had gone after Londes from S.C.R.A.T.C.H., and had almost been put into a permanent sleep; when she had felt her strength draining and made that desperate call back to the Bebop, she knew, somewhere, that she'd be okay. Because back then, she had had Spike and Jet to come to her rescue. But now, Spike was dead and Jet hadn't found her yet. And she couldn't help but think that he wasn't going to come in time. It was too late._ I'm sorry Jet…_ she thought, because, even at such a crucial moment, she couldn't help but think of how she'd messed up yet another bounty.

Despair and fear had her petrified now, and she had lost all the energy and will to fight back. She could only plead in her mind that he would miraculously pass out, or that someone would find her or that…at least…let it be over soon…

_Just let it be over…_

With Marcos's iron grip on her bruised wrists above her head, and his free hand working on his belt, Faye closed her eyes and waited for the worst…

But it never came.

Instead of the expected weight of his body on top of her, she heard the dull thud of him tumbling to the floor. Had he passed out like she'd hoped? Faye cracked one eye open to see a redhead and a blond.

Lori…and…a guy…

Her head hazy, she turned to see what had caused Marcos to fall off the couch, but he wasn't there. Instead, he was slammed up against a wall, much the way that she'd been, but this was a little different. Instead of being pinned by his arms or wrists, he was held by his throat.

And Jet was the one doing the holding.

Or, better yet, crushing. Because Faye knew that if he contracted his hand just a little tighter, he would crush Marcos's throat. Marcos, even in his state, must've recognized that fact from the look on his face. Instead of the wicked out of control sneer that he had while attacking Faye, there was one of cold fear. Those violet eyes of his stared frightened at his assailant; his legs dangled in the free space between his feet and the floor, which had to be a good four feet, and his hands gripped desperately at the metal arm that held him so painfully to that wall. But it was his eyes that got Faye. And the looks on Lori's and Chris's faces was almost similar. She couldn't see Jet's face from her position on the couch, so she moved to get up, to see what the deal was. Her movement snapped Lori out of her daze, however, and the redhead quickly darted over to Faye, wrapping the violet haired woman up in a throw from the couch. Marcos still struggled against Jet's grip, and tried to speak, in hopes of worming his way out of this.

"C'mon man…let me go…" he panted hoarsely, but Jet didn't flinch. Marcos tried again. "C'mon...you're not sore cause I…wanted a little…fun with that hott..ie, uh?"

Wrong thing to say.

Raring his arm back again and bring Marcos with it, Jet slammed him into the wall again, causing the con to bit his tongue hard. He spit and coughed out blood as he struggled against Jet's arm. "Can't shut up, can you?" Jet asked, his voice low and calm-too calm, creeping Faye out. "Chris, hand me needle." Chris, silent and immobile up to this point, jolted over and gave the needle he held to Jet. Without ceremony or warning, Jet stabbed the needle into the con's bare left cheek. Marcos howled with pain, but shut up the moment he saw Jet's face again. "I'm going to tell you something, Marcos," Jet began, in that same dangerously low, calm, and cold voice as before.

"I'm a reasonable guy. I'm patient. I'm long suffering. I'm pretty nice, if you get to know me. But there are some things that I just _hate._ I hate it when someone lies to me; I hate it when someone touches something that's mine; and I hate it when a man even so much as _hits_ a woman. Do you understand what I'm saying, Marcos?" Marcos nodded feebly as the affects of the stronger, more potent Serenity concoction had already begun to take over. "Well, then. Let me tell you this," he continued. "You have just violated two out of three of those no-no's Marcos. 2 out of 3. That's a bad ratio, Marcos."

And then, pointing his finger in Marcos's face, he growled, "I should _kill you_, Marcos. Do you know why? I'll tell you why! Because not only did you touch what's mine, you hit a woman. Not only did you hit her, from the looks of it, you _beat_ her. And not only did you beat her, you had the nerve"-and he punctuated the word with a quick slam against the wall again-"to try and _rape_ her. Marcos, I should really have my gun in your gut but I won't do that." A quick look of relief washed over the con's face, until Jet began speaking again. "No, I'ma let you go to prison, where I'm sure some big boys won't appreciate it when they hear you tried to rape someone." Marcos's eyes bulged in horror for a moment, before sagging under the drowsiness of the potion. Jet dropped him unceremoniously to the floor, and ordered Chris to get something to tie him up with. "You're going regret ever touching my wife, Marcos," he said, his voice trembling with anger now. "I'll make sure of that."

o0o

Back at the car, Marcos was bound and gagged successfully in the Hammerhead and Faye, after retrieving her purse from the Jaguar, sat quietly in Lori's Jeep. Lori was taking her back to the Bebop, docked two hours away in Alba City while Chris rode with Jet to turn in Marcos. She stared out the window, her mind in a daze, her body shivering involuntarily, even though it was far from cold outside. Still wrapped in the throw from the couch in the penthouse, Faye pulled it tighter around her and closed her eyes, trying to will away the past hour. Her wrists were throbbing painfully and her knee was swelling as well as her cheek from the numerous slaps, although it wasn't anything compared to the storm raging in her head. It wasn't just Marcos's assaults that had her shaken up so bad. It was how far it had gotten. She'd been in situations before where guys didn't take no for an answer…but she had always been able to defend herself. This time, she didn't stand a chance. This time, she'd almost been violated. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness washed over her again and she tried in vain to shake it off.

But it wasn't just the attempted rape that had her shook. It was the way Jet had dealt with the situation. Thinking back, she couldn't recall hearing the door burst open, nor the sound of Jet bounding across the room, snatching Marcos from the couch and slamming him against the wall. She hadn't even seen it. It had just happened. And it scared her probably more than Marcos himself, because she'd never, ever, _ever_ seen Jet that way before. Sure, she'd seen him upset, angry even, but never to the point that he would killed someone. And he would've probably killed Marcos if Marcos had said just one more thing. What had made him snap like that?

Lost in her thoughts, Faye didn't even notice Lori get into the Jeep a few minutes later. Lori knew Faye was in shock about the whole situation, so she didn't try striking up any conversation. And for the two hour ride back to Alba City, neither of them spoke, though Lori cut on the radio softly to counter some of the eerie silence. When she was finally back at the Bebop, finally _home_, she got out the Jeep and walked on unsteady legs down the dock. "Faye," Lori called gently. "Do you want me to stay with you for awhle? At least till Jet gets back." Faye turned slowly and pause a moment, her head lowered, her eyes cloudy and lost. "Um…sure. Thanks. You want something to eat?"

Lori waited till Faye got her bath (which took nearly an hour because she sat in the tub till the waterwent cold to scrub off the feeling of Marcos's hands on her thighs) to fix Faye and herself something to eat. As traumatized as she was, Faye was starved and ate the ham sandwich eagerly. Lori attempted to get her mind off the night a bit by telling how she knew Jet, but the mention of his name and Faye's eyes widened. She decided to switch to herself instead, and for a little while, Faye, though unusually quiet, seemed like she would be okay. But, the hatch to the Bebop opened about and hour an half later and Jet walked in, his face tired and hagared. Faye didn't look at him; she merely got up and walked silently to her room.

Eyes following his wife, Jet glanced at Lori, who sat on the couch and asked, "She's still…?" Lori nodded. He sighed and rubbed his temples with one shakey hand. "I can't believe I let that happen to her," he murmured mournfully. "I can't believe I wasn't there sooner. I shouldn't have let her go with him. I should've had another plan. I"- "I think she's more scared of you than what happened, Jet," Lori said quietly. Jet stared at Lori for a few moments, not wanting to believe what she said but knew that it was true. He had snapped back at the penthouse, his emotions overcoming logic and almost sending him down into a path he swore long ago he'd never walk. "I know," he whispered and took a step toward the stairs leading to his room. "I didn't mean it…I just…" "I know," Lori whispered back, moving to stand beside him. She gave him a quick but meaningful hug and turned toward the door. "I'm going to go now. Chris is waiting for me?" When he nodded she moved to go out the hatch, but not before offering one more tidbit of advice to Jet. "She knows you were…out of control. She just needs you to let her know that." And with that, she left.

Jet stood silently, brooding over his actions, in the living room for several more minutes before heading to bed. Lying there, as tired as he was, he couldn't sleep, thinking in retrospect how he must've looked to Faye and the others. _She's afraid of me. I never wanted her to fear me._ Frustration and anger at his own actions brought a sting of tears to his eyes, which he hastily wiped away. Shuddering, he turned on his side, trying to block out everything and slip into merciful slumber.

Within a minute or two, though, he heard the soft padding of feet that could only mean Faye. Not knowing what to expect, he kept his back turned and his eyes closed…until he felt her slim arms wrap around his torso. She shuddered, and choked back a sob, but it burst forth anyways. This time it was quiet, but he could still feel it. And with it, that same sense of panic that always happened when she cried like that. Turning in the bed, he came face to face with a pair of frightened green eyes, wet with tears. She didn't speak, and neither did he, but she kept her arms around him and snuggled into his chest. "What happened?" she finally choked out. Pressing her against him and frowning in the dark, he could only shake his head.

"I don't know…"

**I'm finished with chapter 8! Woo Hoo! Was that intense, or what? I hope I didn't make Jet seem too…crazy, but he sort of snapped at that penthouse. I guess I would too if some one was a hairs length away from raping the woman I loved…**

**So, tell me if it was bad…or good…or whatever.**

**BB**


	9. Mocha Mocha Remix Part 1

Disclaimer: If Cowboy Bebop was mine, then Spike would be my boyfriend and Jet my sugar daddy.

AN: I didn't really get that much response for last chapter, but I guess that's cause it was…weird, I'd say. I won't change it though. There's too much stuff in there that is imperative to the story later on. Anyhoo, chapter nine is way more lighthearted, and a little bit romantic, too. But the big stuff don't come till later.

_You can't hurry love, no you just have to wait…_ Alright, so before I burst into song, here's chapter 9 of CIMC.

* * *

**Mocha Mocha Remix pt.1**

Morning.

She'd heard someone say somewhere that everything looked better in the morning. Apparently, they hadn't seen her face after her encounter from last night. _Of all the places he could've hit me_, she thought, _he had to hit me in the face_. She whined a little, and touched the swollen cheek, then winced…not just because of her face, but all the other sore places too. And was she sore! Faye felt, if she could put it in words, that she'd been not only hit by a truck, but stomped on by two ornery and pregnant elephants, then ran over by a steam roller.

Lowering her arm from her face, she winced again and starred for a few more moments in the mirror at her bruised face before wobbling, with a respective degree of misery, back to Jet's room. It was further down the hall from the bathroom than her room, but Jet's bed was way more comfortable than her shabby excuse for a bed. _Why didn't I get that new mattress when I thought about it?_ Besides, sleeping beside Jet was just plain comforting, to say the least. When she'd woken up minutes before, getting up with difficulty and nearly crying at how her limbs and muscles protested and how she felt every one of her 80 years, his arms were still wrapped protectively around her. The warmth from his body radiated like a heater; even though it was May and technically summer, hot natured Jet usually kept the air conditioner on in the Bebop, so Faye slept with a blanket anyway. But the chill she'd had last night wasn't entirely physical. Just the idea of sleeping alone had scared her in ways she didn't think it could, even safe on the Bebop with Jet. It wasn't enough knowing that he was only a little ways down the hall from her if she needed anything. She needed to know that he was right there beside her. And, with him cradling her against his chest last night, she had managed to fall into a dreamless and rather deep sleep, even after her ordeal.

Reaching the door to his room her eyes adjusted to the dim light and roamed the bed till she found Jet's sleeping face. He was curled up on the far right edge of the bed, breathing deeply from his mouth, his face tons calmer and more serene than it had been last night. When she came to him and asked, after a well deserved sob, what had happened, he had been silent for a long while before simply and gravely replying, "I don't know." Faye had a feeling that he really didn't know why he had lost control the way he had and she knew that it bothered him to the fullest extent that he didn't know. If anything, Jet liked being in control of a situation, especially of his emotions and actions before, during, or after.

Last night had definitely _not_ been Jet Black in control.

Oh sure, he'd managed, by the skin of his teeth, to rescue her at the last minute from being raped (and who knew what else?) by that scum Marcos, but he hadn't been able to control his rage after. The semblance of control he'd maintained while holding the con against the wall was nothing more than a fragile levee that creaked under the strain of his burgeoning emotions. His voice, calm and deadly as he confronted Marcos, had creeped her out even more so than the look of pure hatred on his face. The Jet she was used to, the one that was her best friend and now husband, growled and complained and yelled when he was angry or irritated. But last night had gone beyond angry. Jet had been near ready to kill. And it was that deathly calm that had frightened her.

She didn't know for sure or not, but she figured that he must've thought she was afraid of him. She wasn't. Faye couldn't be afraid of Jet even if she tried; they had been through too much together, had gotten too close for that. Faye trusted Jet with her life. She knew him better than she knew anyone, and he knew her better than she knew herself. So she knew he'd never hurt her any kind of way. What she was scared of last night was that he would lose all control and make a mistake he could never fix. So what if Marcos was a con and a murderer and probably wouldn't have been missed if he'd been killed? That was against Jet's principles. Jet had better morals than to kill a man just for the sake of it; if anything, he preferred to bring them to justice and make them suffer the way they'd made others. Yet, Faye couldn't but help think of how he'd shot Fad after discovering the truth behind loosing his arm. She hadn't been there, so she didn't exactly know what had happened that made Jet do that. When he had told her about it, there was a serious look of remorse and sadness in his eyes as he talked. Fad had been his partner and a good friend…or so Jet thought. "Betrayal has a weird way of bringing out the worst in people", he had said gravely after. Faye had agreed, and she still did. But Jet wasn't being betrayed when he snapped last night. Betrayal had nothing to do with it. It was merely a task of protecting her safety and stopping Marcos from molesting her. Jet would've done that for any woman, she knew, because that was just how he was. What had made last night different, other than the fact that she was probably closer to him than any other woman, was because she knew he was fiercely protective of her.

_And, because he loves you._

Faye sighed and proceeded to wobble on into the room. It was still pretty early, and she wanted to get as much sleep as she could before Jet woke up. Gingerly, so as not to upset any of her numerous bruises, she got into bed beside him and laid her head on the pillow softly. Facing him, she lifted her hand slowly and traced the outline of his lips, feeling the warm breath pass through gently. She closed her eyes, and snuggled further into his chest, and before she knew, she'd fallen back asleep.

o0o

Sapphire blue eyes opened slowly to the sight of a mess of violet. For a split second, he had no idea where the stuff had come from (what was that anyway?) but he knew it smelled nice. And it was soft. And every time he took a breath it would tickle his nose.

Sort of reminded him of hair…

Hair. Wait, maybe this _was_ hair. Yep, it was hair. Straining his still groggy eyes in the darkened room to focus on the hair, he shifted a little to the left, so he could get a better look. There was something in his way. It was warm, not really heavy but had weight to it. It was soft, too. But not soft like the hair had been. This was kind of squishy like, like his pillow, but it felt better. He took his hand, which had been lying on another soft part of whatever was beside him and ran his fingers through the hair, revealing…

A set of thick dark lashes framed her eyes, her lips parted slightly, a few strands of hair that he hadn't moved out of the way falling into her face. With a lazy smile he watched the pretty woman sleeping, his hands still tangled into her hair. Then, suddenly, the lashes parted to reveal brilliant green eyes, eyes that glowed in the dark. Seeing his smile, she attempted to smile back. But when she did, she winced and it was only then that he noticed that her face, her very pretty face, was swollen. His fingers moved from her silky strands to her swollen cheek, touching the flesh tenderly. She closed her eyes again, and let out a slow sigh, then, with a level of difficulty and even more wincing, reached up and lay her hand on his.

"Jet…"

He sat up then, slowly, and pulled her with him. "Faye, are you okay?"

"Hmmm…other than the soreness, the bruising, the swelling…yeah."

Jet looked around the room for the clock then and frowned when he saw what time it was. 12:24…had he slept that long? "What's wrong?" she asked sleepily. "Nothing," he responded with a yawn. "I just don't remember the last time I woke up this late." She nodded slowly and moved to get out the bed. He did the same.

Sitting on either side of the bed, neither party spoke for a few long moments, trying to find a way to comfortably talk about last night but not coming up with any ideas. Jet sighed, deciding he may as well be the one to break the ice.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For almost not getting there on time. For scaring you last night."

"_You_ didn't scare me…what you did scared me."

"Well, whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be. It's not a big deal or any-"

"How are you gonna just sit there and pretend it's no big deal! You were almost raped, Faye, all because I didn't…cause I wasn't…and then…then I made you afraid of me-don't say you weren't!"

She shut her mouth.

"I scared you, I know I did. I scared Lori, I scared Chris, I even scared myself. It was like I could see myself, I could feel myself losing control but I couldn't stop it. I don't know why I did that. I don't even know why I was able to stop. But…" He sighed, his voice weary and tired. "I don't ever want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not," she whispered. "I was scared, yes, but not of you. I was afraid you'd do something that you'd regret. I know you, Jet."

He didn't move, didn't speak, but she continued.

"I know you'd never hurt _me._ I know you'd do anything for _me_. But I'm just scared that if anything like that ever happened again…you might snap again…and…well, you could've killed him, Jet. That's what scared me. And then, the way you looked, the way you talked…that scared me, Jet. I've never seen you like that." Faye shuddered involuntarily at the sight of his normally calm, composed self on the verge of collapse.

"Neither have I."

She turned her head the best she could to look at him in the still dark light of the room. His brows were furrowed, his hands shaking, a deep frown engraved on his face as he was obviously reliving the night. Ignoring her battered body's protests, she crawled over to where he sat and crouched beside him. She laid her hand gently on his shoulder, her eyes boring into his face, begging him to look at her.

"Look at me."

He hesitated but met her gaze, his eyes troubled and her heart broke just staring into them.

"I could never be afraid of you," she whispered and leaned forward, meaning to press a comforting kiss on his cheek. The tip of her nose touched his skin, and something strange erupted inside her. Aiming her mouth just a little lower, she found his mouth and pressed her lips, tentatively, against his. For a moment, just a moment, he didn't move, but his mouth reacted anyway and he was kissing her back and suddenly she was in his lap and his arms were crushed tightly around her, so tight she thought she'd suffocate but he drew back and she caught her breath. She propped her chin on his head and wrapped her arms around him, even though it hurt and he closed his eyes, his arms still locked around her possessively. 'I could never be afraid of you…'

_I could never hurt you…_

o0o

Neither of them really talked about that night or that morning after over the next few days. Faye simply lay around and recuperated; Jet stayed beside her and catered to her needs. One day, she finally asked about the money. They were lounging on the couch silently, she resting against the cushions and he holding her feet in his lap as they listened to some quiet music when she realized she had yet to hear about the money. When she asked, he smiled, for the first time in days, and chuckled.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask", he said quietly. Lately, everything he said had been quiet and although it didn't necessarily bother her, it was still somewhat strange. She ignored it. "So…" "So," he continued, absently playing with her toes, "Between the time his bounty was posted and the time Chris and I drug him in, it shot up another two million." Her eyes widened at this information. "3.2 million…" she breathed. "Yep, 3.2 million woolongs." "What are you going to do with it?" Jet leaned back and stared up at the ceiling fan. "Half a mil goes to Chris and Lori. I would've given 'em more but that's all they would accept. One million goes toward some remixing…around here."

"You're gonna remodel the ship?" He nodded. Then he took breath and let out a sigh, flexing his cybernetic arm. "But first I figured, I'd do a little of my own remixin'." Faye frowned and opened her mouth to ask what, but then realize what he was talking about. "It's giving me trouble," he said. "I never could feel anything with it, but it's a cheap model so…but it's bothering my whole side. I think something wrong with the nerves. And it keeps freezing up, so I think there's probably a short in it too." Faye sat up, wincing softly (she was still sore), and touched the cool metal arm. "So, you're gonna get a replacement?" she asked and looked up at him. He shook his head. "If you mean another one of these pieces of junk, no." Jet turned his head to look at her and, with an optimistic twinkle in his eyes he smiled and said, "I'm finally getting an organic one. Should've done that in the first place."

o0o

Dr. Bruce Guirney's eyes looked at the tumble and jumble of wires that lay inside of Jet's arm. From the frown on his face, Jet and Faye could tell that something definitely was wrong. Jet had seen all the wires before, when he was still in the hospital and the doctor that had done his previous operation showed him briefly how the arm worked, but Faye hadn't and it showed all over her face. Of course she knew that his cybernetic limb ran with wiring, but this was just _weird_. He wanted to chuckle at how shocked she looked to see someone digging around in his arm. It was too cute. After some mumbling under his breath and a few notes, the middle aged doctor shook his head and cocked an eyebrow at Jet.

"When you said it was a slipshod job, you weren't lying. This is cheap, for a lack of a better word. I suppose I don't really have to tell you that, though; I'm pretty sure you could feel it." Jet nodded, glaring at the arm as if he could burn a hole through it with his eyes. "It's always been…iffy, but lately it's gotten worse." Dr. Guirney tapped his chin. "Iffy, you say? Well, it's not one of the better models, but it should've at least lasted you another ten years, without any interference. Of course, the lifetime of these things and how they respond do depend a lot on the doctor that does the operation. I suppose your doctor did the operation in under an hour, am I right?"

Jet looked at Guirney stunned. "Um, yeah… I mean, he attached it, I was out for about another hour after, and I went home the same day." Guirney shook his head. "No wonder, then." Faye, who'd been pretty much silent the entire time, spoke up. "What do you mean, Dr. Guirney?" she asked confused. "Are you saying that the doctor that did Jet's first operation really messed it up?" He nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying Mrs. Black. If a procedure like that isn't done properly, and I mean if it's not done carefully and meticulously, serious side affects will result. Other than shortage in the wiring itself, nerve damage and even spinal injury could happen. In some rare cases, paralysis or even death has been reported." Upon hearing this, Jet visibly blanched. Dr. Guirney just chuckled. "Don't worry, Mr. Black"- "Call me Jet," he grumbled. "Okay, Jet. Don't worry about that, though. The most serious side affect of your prosthesis is some nerve damage, but none beyond repair. However, I wouldn't risk anymore damage; every time you use that thing-flex it, hold something, even move it-you damage the nerves a little bit more. So, you'll need two operations; one for detaching the arm and one for reattaching the organic model."

Jet frowned as he glared at his arm, the wiring still visible, and absently massaged an ache in his neck. "How long is this gonna take?" Guirney sat back in his chair and crossed his hands in his lap. "Oh, about four or five hours for the detachment, and about six for the attachment. You'll need a two week recovery period between operations, though, and when I mean recovery, I mean as little work or activity as possible. The nerves need a chance to heal before we can apply you're organic model." "And it's already in the process of being made?" "Yes sir," Guirney replied. "We used the skin sample, blood sample, and tissue sample we obtained from your real arm to start construction. It should be ready for the operation." Jet winced and looked at bandage covering the hole in his arm from the previous week, when he had went in for consultation, and the doctor had taken the samples. Guirney smiled and went to work on closing the cybernetic arm back up. "If you think that's painful," he said, "just imagine if we needed a bone marrow sample." Jet's eyes widened and he looked at Faye nervously. "You don't, do you?" she asked slowly. The doctor shook his head and laughed. "Oh no. Modern technology no longer requires it; we can use his blood samples and DNA to make bone mass." Jet sighed in relief and when he was finished with the wiring, Guirney began scheduling the operations.

o0o

"So, are you nervous?" she asked, as they sat at Vic's and ate ice cream later that day. He looked down at his cup of butter pecan and nodded slowly. "A little, I guess. Not so much of whether or not it'll hurt or anything, but…" "That it won't work right or it won't be as real as he said it would. Am I right?" Jet stared at her astonished for a moment and nodded again. "How'd you know that?" Faye just shrugged. "I guess cause I know you, that's all." He mused over that for moment, then smiled somewhat to himself and gazed at her, absently mulling over the way the sun reflected off her hair. "Hmm…I guess so. If anybody would know me, it would be you." Then they were quiet again and she ate another bite of her moose tracks, her eyes wandering the semi busy streets of an Alba City afternoon. Her mind wandered to the comment Jet had just made and it brought and unconscious smile to her lips. _If anybody would know me, it would be you_. It was almost strange how simple things that he said like that meant so much to her. Normally she would've taken them with a smile and never thought much else about it, but as of late, she'd been thinking things like that over. Just what did he mean by that? She was sure she knew him better than anyone else, and yet she couldn't help but want to feel even more exclusive.

All and all, things hadn't changed too much over the past month. It was nearing June and the weather had gotten hotter; she still hadn't been able to think of anything else to write at the moment, which irritated her beyond measure; Jet's upcoming surgery and plans for remodeling the ship after his recovery dominated their conversation on a daily basis. Lori and Chris had called several times and even stopped by, and Faye felt she and Lori were becoming friends. It was nice to have another female to talk to and often times, she would sit in the kitchen with coffee or a sandwich and the two would just chat. And, although she'd only known her for three weeks, it was to Lori that she had expressed her thoughts about Jet.

The redhead was silent on the phone for a minute before saying, "Have you ever thought that maybe you feel more for Jet than you think?"

Faye paused. "You mean, like, am I in love with him?" "I wouldn't go that far yet, but…you did tell him you could fall for him didn't you?" Faye agreed and poked at the crusts of her sandwich, watching as the bread caved in then slowly rose back up. "Well, yeah, but…I mean, this is Jet we're talking about." "Exactly," Lori said with a hint of a smile in her voice. "Why'd you say it like that?" Faye quipped, one violet eyebrow arched in thought. "Did I ever tell you how bad of a crush I had on Jet when I was younger?" Faye shook her head, eyes wide and mouth dropped. "N-n-no, no! You had a crush on Jet?" she squeaked out. Lori laughed. "Oh yeah. This was back when I was about fourteen, barely in high school. I'd never been kissed before, never had a boyfriend, and all my friends had already gone through that. By then, I was so ready to be part of the 'in-crowd' and I figured Jet Black would be just the guy to help me…even if he was twenty six and my big brother's pal. It didn't help either that any relationship between us would've been illegal." Faye laughed at that and brushed bread crumbs from the table. "But anyway, the point is, I found something about Jet that I just thought was the most amazing thing. Eventually, I grew out of my crush, but it's that something about Jet that makes me like him still; that something is the reason we're friends."

"I understand that," Faye agreed, "but that's it. I don't see Jet as anything other than a friend." "Are you sure about that, Faye?" Lori asked. "I don't know," Faye admitted. "What do you mean?" "Are you sure that Jet is _just_ a friend to you, or maybe is he something more? You don't necessarily have to be in love with him to have more than friendship between you two. Just think about it, Faye. What is Jet to you?" Faye sat quietly for a moment and thought about Lori's question. What _was_ Jet to her? She frowned in thought before Lori's voice broke the silence. "Look, I'll give you a little while to think about it. Make a list and call me back, okay? Maybe we can sort some of this out." After hanging up Faye had gotten out a sheet of paper and had all intentions of making out that list, but all she could think about was _friend_.

_Is there really anything else between friend and lover?_

As she sat eating her ice cream, she realized that maybe, just maybe there was. There probably wasn't a name for it, but she knew that Jet meant more to her than merely a friend. In fact, she could go so far as to say that she loved him. But loving someone and being in love with someone were two entirely different things. Truthfully, she'd never actually been in love. What she had felt for Spike was something different in itself. The determining factor between infatuation and love was the willingness to give of oneself; her crush on Spike had been rather selfish, though in the end, she would've given anything if he hadn't left. By then she'd realized that she loved him…but then again, she wasn't in love with him. What exactly was it that made someone fall in love with another? Faye didn't know and it was really aggravating her the more she thought on it. Growling unconsciously to her self, she took another stab into her ice cream and was about to pop the spoon in her mouth when she saw the look on Jet's face. _He must think I'm crazy._

"I'm okay, if that's what you're wondering."

He nodded but the look he was giving her spoke otherwise.

"Seriously, Jet, I'm fine. I'm…I was just thinking about some things and I'm having a hard time figuring them out."

He nodded again and looked back down at his ice cream, as if he was trying to determine the best possible place to scoop another lump of butter pecan. "Anything I could help with?" he asked quietly, finding the spot he wanted to eat from and digging in. She glanced up and stared at him. Could Jet help her figure out if she was in love with him? Of course he could; if he had fallen in love with her, then apparently he knew what it was that made him fall in love with her…or did he? But there was no way she was going to ask Jet about that; she could share just about anything with him, but she didn't think she could ask him something like that.

She shook her head at the thought. "Okay," he said, and she jumped, almost forgetting he was there. "But if you need anything…" "I know, I know, just ask, right?" He smiled and nodded. "Right." Then the conversation shifted toward renovations to the ship as it had lately. Faye made a subconscious thought to ask Lori next time she called; maybe she could help her figure this out.

* * *

Okay, so I'm so just dying to know how you guys liked this chapter. Mocha Mocha Remix part 1 is just the first in a 4 part chapter series about remixes...I suppose you could see it like that. They won't necessarily be in order, in fact I think they'll just skip around some in the plot. But what can we expect in the coming chapters? Jet's surgery; Faye, Jet, and a friend help to remodel the Bebop; and the new affections Faye develops for Jet are tested in the form of Jet's high school sweet heart.

Stay tuned! Or something like that, and please, do review. I'll love you forever if you do!

BB


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